


pretty will swallow you forever

by cledritch



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Enemies to Lovers, Goth Photography Student Winwin, Light Angst, Love/Hate, M/M, Punk Vocalist Taeyong, Sexual Content, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-21
Updated: 2017-08-21
Packaged: 2018-12-10 05:47:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 22,678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11685330
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cledritch/pseuds/cledritch
Summary: He used to live in beauty, grace and the flashing lights. Now he has emotional baggage that came with a camera along with the arrival of the human wrecking ball named Lee Taeyong.





	pretty will swallow you forever

**Author's Note:**

> For **Prompt #248:** Taeyong is the vocalist of a punk rock band, Winwin is a goth photography/philosophy student
> 
> (thank you for everyone who helped me and to those reading as well as the prompter, I hope you enjoy. it was so vague that i had trouble for awhile and thank you for the mods as well ^^)  
>  **EDIT: Added the missing scene (12/07/18)**

Sicheng woke up to the sound of his roommate moaning.

He blinked in his nest of blankets, eyelids sticking together he felt like he was ripping apart his lashes as he strained his hearing. There's another distinct sound of Jaehyun's heavy breathing, and he's not sure whether he's jerking off again or if he hit his toe on the table like he always did every time he was in a hurry. Sicheng knew Jaehyun probably wouldn't be that dramatic he can hear him from this far away and the walls weren't that thin because they made sure it would be easy to listen to music on repeat in privacy.

Another moan and Sicheng is slightly disturbed.

It meant Jaehyun was jerking off and probably somewhere that wasn't in the privacy of his room or the bathroom. Sicheng is well acquainted with how he sounded nearing orgasm due to the several times they were bored and hooked up to just ease off some tension. That's what friends were for, being there in times of need. No strings attached to the point people ask them if they were together, and they'd answer they were just close. It's was very confusing to a lot of people that they'd make bets on how many they can baffle with the fact that they can still be friends with sex in between. No secrets between them whatsoever —

Then Sicheng heard someone else's voice and sat up on his bed, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

"What the fuck?" he whispered to himself, tossing the covers off his blue chick-patterned pajama-clad body and combing his fingers down his hair to tame it. Jaehyun always told him when he'd bring someone home whether it be from a frat party or a club he went to sing occasionally. It was a routine between them, so that Sicheng would know how to deal with them; whether he'd kick them out if they were prolonging their stay or offer them drinks if they were polite enough and knew Jaehyun wasn't going to commit.

Sicheng made sure his collar wasn't showing too much skin lest he suddenly get asked into a threesome again. He shuddered at the memory, pulling on a sweater just because it was cold as fuck and slipping into his lemon-printed slippers. Pattering out his room as quiet as he can, he thought about what he should say.

"I swear if it's someone with a dubious haircut again, I'll drag him by his hair." he told himself and crossed the threshold to find that the hallway is littered with clothes. Clothes he wasn't familiar with, he added in his head as he picked them up in case he needed something to throw.

The moaning is more obvious now, high-pitched and Sicheng is unbothered because he's used to it. Hell, even the slurping sounds didn't deter him as he approached the doorway with a blank face. He peered inside; no one is in sight but the noises sounded closer, so he sighed.

He pinched the bridge of his nose to get rid of the upcoming headache. "He didn't just—"

Sicheng stomped to the next room, not bothering to hide his presence as he went in with disapproval.

"On the table? Really?" A yelp and followed by Jaehyun jumping off the table in such a hurry that he accidentally shoved the other boy onto his dick and accidentally choking him. It was comical to watch: the boy's wide eyes and the ugly sound of him gagging while Jaehyun pushed him off, apologizing profusely under his breath while he turned back and forth between Sicheng and his hook up.

"Goddamit, Sicheng!" Jaehyun yelled, pulling up his sweatpants to hide his erection. He sounded like he went through second puberty and covered in sheen of sweat (because of course he's not wearing a shirt) that matched well with the blazing red on his pale cheeks.

Sicheng gestured at the table and scrunched his face. "We eat there." he said simply.

The boy is still coughing out the taste of dick at the back of his throat, Jaehyun soothing his back with slow circles of his palm. Sicheng took a moment to give him a once over. Thin, blue-gray hair in disarray that stuck to his forehead so he must have freshened up before thinking a quickie in a kitchen was a good idea. He's dressed in Jaehyun's old choir shirt and his boxers that Sicheng raised a brow at the ensemble. So the clothes were his then, a little miffed he must be holding something used as a cum rag from last night.

"So these are his..." he trailed off and realized the boy is wearing Jaehyun's clothes. His mouth opened in surprise before suppressing a smile "Here." he said, withholding his laughter and the boy nodded, taking his clothes.

Jaehyun cleared his throat, recovered from the fright Sicheng gave them and put his hand on the boy's waist to move him closer to Sicheng. "This is Doyoung. My roommate-"

"Long-suffering." Sicheng piped up blankly that earned him a laugh from Doyoung. He's cute with big eyes and teeth reminiscent of cute bunnies, the prominent Adam's apple bobbing as he kept gulping air. Choking on dick must have been worse than he thought.

Jaehyun rolled his eyes, finishing with "Sicheng." Doyoung reached over to shake his hand but the other boy shook his head. He frowned until Sicheng pointedly looked at Jaehyun then at the outline of his still hard dick then to Doyoung's hands.

"I hope you won't be offended, but as close as Jaehyun and I are, I don't want to think where you put your hand in," Sicheng said in amusement. "Hygiene."

Jaehyun immediately slapped him upside his head. "Fuck you!"

"Hey, he's right there!" Sicheng pointed at Doyoung who is looking at them with a mix of confusion and amusement. "Fuck him!" Ah, the pink is back on his cheeks and ducked his head to hide it.

Sparing them further embarrassment, Sicheng walked away with his sandwich wrapped in table napkins and slipping it into one of the ziploc bag. Jaehyun is talking to Doyoung about driving him back for breakfast. He picked up his bag, putting his sandwich inside and hauling the strap over his shoulder. He's pointedly looking away because Doyoung is changing, slipping his jeans back on but giving Jaehyun the shirt that had questionable stains on them, whispering "I'll get it later...when it's washed."

"Ah, by the way-" Doyoung called out before Sicheng could get back inside his room to get his beanie, tilting his head back to look at him "Those pictures in the living room..."

The two of them walked into the room, Jaehyun lagging behind to see how this played out. The living room is a little crowded, the couch shoved to the wall to make room for a table where they still had their books half-opened and pieces of loose paper, some crumpled and some haphazardly shoved between the pages. The television was a bit scratched on the edges and the tape that hid the small crack on the corner stood out comically and it didn't help that there were succulents around it like a ritual circle. However, the frames hanging on the walls tied the room together. They were the cheap kind you can buy from the bargain bin but Jaehyun painted them silver to hide the ugly wood underneath and the pictures.

Sicheng always kept his photographs to just his teachers, Jaehyun and himself. Whenever he was asked about them, he'd just pretend he didn't know Korean and stare at them until they got uncomfortable. His camera-a little Nikon D800 given to him as a hand-me-down from a senior who moved back to China to pursue his acting career-was always tucked inside its bag with a padlock. Someone tried to steal it but ended up giving it back because their fingernails were bleeding from trying to open it.

But here in the living room, they could get a glimpse. They aren't perfect, some a bit more contrast and some had been off focused because of the lighting (or lack thereof) yet there is something nice about them. Sicheng's subjects varied, from the Persian cat lounging on the porch where the light made his dark brown fur almost burnt gold, the bubbles floating over the school fountain that were bigger because of how he took the angle and the dark alleyway that was illuminated in orange from the lamppost. They were hung in a zigzag pattern, seemingly telling a story but then on the other wall was a collection of darker pictures. Taken from a dim place, strobes all around and the mass of people facing the stage where the light was the brightest.

One photo was the neon sign on the brick-patterned wall, golden glow against silver loopings of cursive 'Vroom Vroom Club' with the first letters larger. The photo next to it is someone holding a guitar with another raising the drumsticks he had on hand, looking like something out of a movie with the red and blue lights casting shadows on their skin. But the one that stood out most is the picture of a young male, pale peach hair almost white in the light in disarray and damp that it stuck to his forehead. His back to the camera, the outline of ink through his thin white shirt wet from sweat and the intensity of his kohl-lined eyes with his thick eyebrows as he stared right at the camera. It looked like a painting, the angles of his face and the casted shadows on him reminiscent of the animations: surreal and beautiful.

 

Doyoung pointed at that one. "I know him," he turned to Sicheng "And that's my family's club."

 

Jaehyun's eyebrows shot up, looking at his friend who had become silent at the inquiry. He crossed his arms, narrowing his eyes at Sicheng. "Huh." he said simply, hoping he'd look up. He did out of the corner of his eyes, hands clasping together like he usually did when he's caught doing something.

Sicheng stared at Jaehyun, making sure that he looked casual before throwing his hands in front of him in gestures that only Jaehyun would understand. There's a nod and then the caramel-haired boy clenched his fist before sticking two fingers out.

"What are you doing?" Doyoung asked.

Both of them flinched, Sicheng laughing nervously. "Pardon?"

Doyoung pointed to the picture again with more resolution "I'm not sure how I feel about your friend taking pictures of my friend on their gig," he put a finger on his chin "I might need to charge him. Taeyong doesn't like it when-"

Jaehyun waved his hands in front of Doyoung, yelling incoherently before he calmed down to put an arm around him "Listen. It's getting late and the breakfast menu wouldn't be up for long. We need to go. Sicheng's going to be late too!" he said in a cheery tone, pulling Doyoung away so they were facing the door.

Sicheng rolled his eyes at the way Jaehyun pointed at him, mouthing "Talk later." before he let Doyoung's protests of "What is he? A fansite-nim? A stalker?" falls on deaf ears as they went out the door with a slam. He sighed at the two and looking at the picture again, hoping to not remember this when he got back from class. Speaking of his class, he looked at his watch and shrieked "I'm late!" and running out the door, quickly locking it behind him.

…

His camera is heavy in his palm, the strap sticking to the nape of his neck he had to adjust it every few minutes. Sicheng bit his lip nervously, looking around to make sure he didn't see anything amiss. He didn't know why he was here again in spite of the possibility of that Doyoung guy finding him again, asking questions he doesn't want to answer.

The bouncer glared at him through his shades and Sicheng smiled him, slipping inside when the man opened the door for him. He gave a huge sigh of relief when he was inside, the strobe lights on the huge dancefloor making him squint, moving through the throng of people dancing to the beat of the song from a Spotify playlist.

"They better have a premium membership ..." he muttered in Mandarin remembering the last time he was here, the ads coming out of the speaker making everyone stare awkwardly at the DJ, one person trying to dance to the automated voice advertising sneakers.

He went to his usual spot, close to the wall and right in front of the stage where they were setting up the instruments. A few people brushed against his side offering him drinks, but he shook his head, knowing well he shouldn't be intoxicated while taking pictures.

"Oh!" There's a hand around his shoulder, tucking him under a chin and he pushed them away in surprise. "Get off-" He's about to start swinging at this creep but was stopped when his wrist was grabbed, his camera falling off his hand and hitting his ribs a little too rough.

Sicheng tugged at his wrist, whining "Kun, what the hell are you doing here?" The elder shrugged, letting go and shoving his hands into his jacket with a chuckle.

"I shouldn't really be the one in question, kid."

"I'm not a kid. I'm in here, aren't I?"

Kun pushed his hair out of his face, shaking his head "Seriously, didn't I tell you not to look like you came from a formal meeting when you're out clubbing? People will mistake you as a virgin or a lost kid from a funeral house."

Sicheng flushed, looking down at the black shirt a little bigger than his size and the grey shorts that he dug from Jaehyun's closet and combat boots that weren't shiny because someone stepped on them in school that day. He played with the black bracelets around his wrist before fiddling with the strap of his camera. "Hardy-har. That's funny." he hissed, punching Kun's arm.

"You brought a camera again? I'm starting to think you're a voyeur."

One more word and Sicheng is going to use one of his bracelets to ram inside Kun's mouth to get him to shut up. He clenched his fist to control his anger, sighing forcefully out of his nose "Fuck off, gege."

The elder gasped, putting a hand to his chest dramatically "Wow. Language from a virginal black-wearing kid. Oh how the world has changed," Kun laughed, patting Sicheng's hair "I'm joking, you know that, right?"

It wasn't funny and Sicheng slapped his hand away. The lights have started to move faster, the rhythm erratic and he blinked to avoid getting flares directly into his eyes.

"Ah, they're playing again. This should be fun."

Sicheng peeked over his shoulder to find that the drummer and the bassist are already setting up, laughing together as they bumped hips every now and then. The drummer caught his gaze and he gave him a shit-eating grin, pulling the back of the bassist's shirt to point at Sicheng, whispering something that he knew wasn't good. The bassist raised an amused brow at him, snickering.

"What are you looking like an idiot for?" Kun asked with no bite to his tone. Sicheng shook his head in response. "You look ready to bolt. Thought you liked them with the way you took so many pictures last time."

There is an accusation on the tip of his tongue, Sicheng knew but he gave him a glare to make him stop his thoughts before they were voiced. It's annoying that the elder is still able to see through him even when they have stopped being classmates for Psychology classes which Kun should be majoring for. It might be because they talked a lot in Mandarin and Sicheng is less reserved in his mother tongue than the tongue-twisting of the Korean language. It meant that he'd often be talking shit about people who always looked down on him for being Chinese and the occasional questions that earned him a stink eye with every word.

"They're probably calling you an idiot because you brought a camera inside. The flash would bother them." Sicheng nodded absentmindedly, biting his lip as he saw a familiar person walking up to the microphone to remove it from the stand.

He's wearing a sleeveless denim top, unbuttoned to show his bare chest and tucked into leather jeans with ridiculously placed zippers on the thighs. His boots are the same as Sicheng's but shinier and instead of shoelaces, there are numerous buckles that make his legs look longer than they really are.

His hair is styled away from his face, wisps falling over his eyes he carded his hand to tuck them back. In the light, his pale skin tinted an orange hue that accentuated his black-painted nails and if he thought about it more, the sheen of sweat on the cupid's bow of his lips that were already chapped, slowly dragging his tongue over it.

He's beautiful and Sicheng doesn't know what to do when his intense eyes find him in the crowd.

"I don't bring out the flash," he answered breathlessly, and as the spotlights find their way back onto the stage he turns on his camera, tinkering with his settings for the right combinations of contrast and focus.

"Don't need it." 

Kun doesn't hear him as the beat started, drums blaring and bass thumping in tune with it. Someone is throwing a hand up while he's moving the slots on his mix table and Sicheng is walking closer with his camera poised in front of his face.

"Make some noise for the band you've been waiting for! VV Club represent, Track Drop!"

The crowd erupted in cheers, but Sicheng is hiding behind his lens, and his heart tries to claw its way up his throat when the vocalist glances down his way lightning fast it felt like it didn't even happen. Yet the fire that burned inside his eyes held a promise that Sicheng is afraid of, wanting to hide but also wanting to come closer.

Not that he had a choice anyways, he thought, snapping away shots of the veins on a pale neck, the laughter embedded on the drummer's cheeks and the energy of the stage that he knew wasn't going to be justified on film.

He snapped until his finger numbed and his legs started shaking, ducking down away from the sight before him, the music too loud in his ears. He checked the gallery to see anything amiss among the pictures he took, the sensation of being stared at making goosebumps rise on his arms. There's nothing blurry, some getting out of focus because he was shoved aside to get to the stage and the rest just needed some adjustments when he got home.

Nothing is amiss. Not even the pictures where the vocalist is staring at him, from the corner of his eye to flat out staring right at him as if he wanted it to be clear that he knew Sicheng was watching.

He should have worn more clothes.

…

Cold, Sicheng thought.

The back of the club isn't really the best place with a dumpster sitting open just a few feet away, the night growing deeper as the wind whipped against his skin, and he's scared he'll get a cold tomorrow.

Hot, his mind supplied as his gasp is swallowed down when Taeyong devoured his mouth.

"You fucking creep-" he whispered harshly against his cheek, trailing wet kisses down his jaw "Always taking pictures when I said fuck off." Sicheng's back is slammed again on the brick wall, tongue down his throat when Taeyong reintroduced his mouth to his. It's rubbing against his tongue piercing, something that he liked to bite down when Sicheng's tongue wandered into his mouth.

He moaned pitifully, a thigh rubbing between his legs close enough it garnered a reaction but too far away to actually do something about it. The scent of sweat and sandalwood is heavy on his nose as he buried his face on the other's hair while Taeyong sucked hickeys down his neck, unsure why it smelled so sweet. "I-"

A scream tore out his throat when there's an unforgiving bite on his pulse point and sending shivers through his whole body. Then more bites trailing down his collarbone with every breath, frantic fingers under his shirt, nails digging on his spine to mold their bodies together. "Hyung, I'm-"

"Shut up." It's spoken against one of his nipple, wearing it with teeth through the fabric of his shirt and a hand groping at his ass that made him harder. He grinded against Taeyong, whimpers echoing through the empty space and he just can't see straight anymore when his nipples are roughly pulled in time with Taeyong's assault on his lips.

"Get on your knees, Winwin." He commanded,his rough voice making Sicheng's legs give, hitting his head as he did so, the sound of Taeyong unbuckling his belt and whipping his hard cock out that hit Sicheng's cheek.

A smear of precum pooled on the corner of the boy's lips, pink tongue darting out to lick it. Salty against his tongue, he ignored the pounding on the back of his head to lick at the tip and suck on the slit to milk more precum. The metal on his tongue brushed right at the sensitive head and Taeyong's breath hitched.

"Put that mouth to good use, you fucker." Taeyong's hands grabbed his jaw to make him open his mouth wider before thrusting his hips to plunge his cock into Sicheng's throat,

The younger choked immediately, sucking a breath when Taeyong grabbed his hair to pull him off but he gagged when not even a moment later, he thrusted again until he got a pace of fucking Sicheng's mouth. He breathed through his nose as he tried to remember the things he learned when they first did this, hollowing his cheeks and letting his saliva leak out his lips because Taeyong liked it. He can feel tears prickling at the corner of his eyes, his jaw feeling numb but Taeyong's grip on his hair tightened as he grabbed his thighs and fastened the pace. He's kept his tongue flat so that his piercing slid under the vein on the underside of Taeyong's cock.

So instead, Sicheng's fingers stroked on the exposed skin on the opened zippers on Taeyong's thighs and sucking as much as he could while he felt the vibrations from the other's body, listened to the harsh gasps and the litany of "I hate you's" until his throat is painted white when Taeyong cums.

He sputtered off his softening cock, slapping away the hands grasping his hair and breathing through his mouth while he swallowed the bitter, salty liquid. Every part of him is thrumming from the pain and his mind is blank because he's hauled up, slammed on the wall again and a hand is unbuttoning his shorts to grasp his cock. Lips slammed onto his that their teeth clash, the tight grip around him with every jerk of Taeyong's hand and twisting his wrist around it from the base to the tip like he wants to strangle it in place of Sicheng's neck.

"Taeyong-hyung-" he's close to sobbing, climax close to his reach but Taeyong tutted him mockingly and he tightened his fingers around the base.

"What do good boys say if they want to cum?"

Sicheng nodded blindly, mind turning to a pile of goo as he begged "Please, pretty please. Let me come," There's a thumb caressing from his perineum and to between his balls, everything so heightened there are tears falling down his cheeks that Taeyong licked away when he sobbed a high-pitched "Hyung."

"Winwin." Taeyong hissed into his mouth, probably tasting himself on Sicheng's tongue and his hands starts to move again, much to his relief. When a nail scrapes against the slit with one last twist of his wrist, Sicheng comes undone.

He came with a noise at the back of his throat, eyes closed so tight he can see afterimages when he opened them later and Taeyong bit down onto his lower lip so hard it split skin. Copper invaded his senses and yet, he can't really mind that he's going to be sore tomorrow when there is Taeyong crowding into his space. He lets his wrists be seized in a bruising grip, whimpering when there's another bite right under his jawbone that made him yell "What the fuck!"

He whined when teeth sunk deeper and nibbling harsher that his knees gave out, holding onto Taeyong's shoulders. There's a rush of air as he crumpled down, sweat cooling on his skin and cum in his shorts while Taeyong looked over him. His eyes are half-lidded with such hatred in his eyes as he took in Sicheng's messy hair, his abused red mouth with remnants of saliva on the corner then to the marks on his neck that would worsen tomorrow.

"Pathetic," Taeyong spat out but he pulled him up by the arm "Put that smile you're known for otherwise they'll think I beat you up."

Silence, before the vocalist clicked his tongue "You should learn your lesson now. Ignore it again and you'll end up limping out that door if I see you here again."

Sicheng doesn't say anything. He doesn't spare a glance when Taeyong left him the moment they got back in the club to approach his bandmates, walking out the front and hailing a cab. It's how it was supposed to be: quick and impersonal because Taeyong can't stand him when he isn't trying to prove a point how good a fucking Sicheng can take. It showed when the band finished their songs, Sicheng was accepting a club soda that Kun brought for him because he looked thirsty that after he downed the whole glass, he was grabbed by the arm and taken to the back of the alley.

Taeyong's never happy to see him, after all.

The moment he arrived at his dorm, he crouched on the curb before letting out a loud "Fucking hell!"

He might have scared a cat out of his perch from the tree next to the dorm, the creature knocked over the trash bins, making their landlord yell at him for being so loud at three in the morning. Instinctively, he grabbed at the strap of his camera to make sure it was okay-

His hands met air then patting his shirt down to find that his camera is not around his neck and he sucked a breath. The last time he had it was when he gave it to Kun because he asked for a picture with the drinks he had in hand, taking it to check while Sicheng drank his club soda and then, Taeyong grabbed him.

Oh, shit.

"Fucking...hell." he sighed. Sleep sounded like heaven right now for his pounding brain. Or a bath because his crotch is itching from dried cum.

…

Sicheng’s life is considerably simple.  
  
It’s not a story he passed around a lot, keeping it to himself mostly when his past is brought up by nosy classmates and teachers who swear they’ve seen his face before. A while back, he had spin-kicked some stalker who thought it was funny to follow him home because they thought he looked like a porn star they once saw online. Either that, or being almost recognized from his old magazine spreads. He didn’t know which was worse. The reason he had chosen to come back here was because it was time for him to move on from his old life. Set a new page on an otherwise ripped book he needed to desert for the better; Sicheng liked to think this was a comeback of sorts if he was in some pop group.  
  
The discussion between his parents had been heated, with them telling him repeatedly that they were concerned he would be recognized and targeted again. He was no longer that kid who couldn’t say anything about the situation he was in, but he was still open to threats because there were a lot of people who thought he was the downfall of an otherwise good business.  
  
It didn’t help that his family left for China right after it was settled, making the comments about him running with his tail tucked between his legs sting more than it should. Being young and a little ignorant about things that weren’t properly explained to him, he was always left confused when his parents ushered him away from the television and the computer — to the point where he was watched every time he was using them. As he grew older, his parents considerably turning mellow because he made friends with the other kids in his new high school, Sicheng would search about the things he wasn’t allowed to before. He’d find death threats to the company’s CEO, the separation of their family because of it, and how the son and mother disappeared completely while the company struggled to stay afloat. If he was still the same when he read it, he would have cried.  
  
He just felt numb.  
  
Since then, it lingered at the back of Sicheng’s mind the minute he moved to his dorm here. The choice may have been his, but the change of surroundings was his sister’s idea to help him socialize more instead of staying home a lot. The period of their parents’ overprotective nature was long past its prime, and it was time to let him go.  
  
Jaehyun wasn’t his first roommate. He had his dorm to himself for a year, keeping to himself mostly as he maneuvered through the awkwardness of the new surroundings and not knowing a familiar face when he chose his major. Sicheng also thought there was an oddity in how he carried himself, dressed in all-black and with rips on his clothes, not for practicality, along with the thick eyeliner he put on to accentuate his eyes. Back then, he did it lightly to make his face less noticeable to anyone who’d recognize him, but now he’s learned to love the darkness it brought that acts as a safety net.  
  
The first roommate he had was photography major Lu Han who was on the verge of graduating and needed to save some money for his thesis materials. Sicheng had a class with him, an elective where the seniors needed pair with the younger students to create a sort of balance between experience and talent. Lu Han was smart, easy to get along with as he talked to him in his mother language that he felt comfortable with him. They worked well together, their teacher commending them for always turning their assignments on time with precise details. Sicheng looked up to him because he knew how hard it was to leave home, how hard it was to deal with people who liked to take his different nationality as a way of pushing his buttons,  taunting that he couldn’t succeed because he wouldn’t get the gist of what was taught to him.  
  
Sucked for those idiots because Lu Han became the top of his class and earned a job back in China in a prestigious company where he would get his photos published every week.  
  
Before Lu Han left, his bags packed and everything already sent to be shipped, he had given Sicheng his camera. It was always the one they used because Sicheng was still unsure whether he should buy one when he might not even be sure of his major. He’s spent a lot of time in front of blinding lights getting his photos taken, the heat of the studio lights and big ass electric fans that made his hair flow to give the illusion of movement.  If anything, he should be avoiding anything that potentially reminds him of being a model but the satisfaction that pools in his heart when he takes a good picture, a story on the still image that you need to feel to actually envision — it was addicting. If he took his other choice, philosophy, he would have gotten more sass than anyone would be able to handle so he’s sparing them all that misery.  
  
Besides, Lu Han’s words when he passed him the Nikon D800 that has been his best friend to the present was the reason he continued.  
  
“Photographs show you a piece of someone and you’re letting other people see how you see the world.”  
  
This is why Sicheng needed his camera back; the idea of Taeyong seeing how he saw the elder when he’s on stage bathed in the lights is too much to bear.  
  
  
His professor was nice enough to let him pass some landscape pieces instead of prying about why he is not passing the recent assignments that had a certain theme he gave out.  
  
Sicheng’s glad that he kept a hard drive of the old photos he took from his vacation trip with Jaehyun for summer break, their time together spent for recreation and so Sicheng could take in the views that he only read about in the pamphlets for vacation packages he couldn’t afford. Jaehyun moved in with him after Lu Han left, sniggering because they couldn’t communicate properly at first. Until time passed, they started their own language only they could understand. He was considered popular with everyone because of his good looks and all-around personality and Sicheng didn’t really feel comfortable with people barging in his dorm wanting to see Jaehyun for no reason. One of the placating gifts Jaehyun gave him was a trip to Jeju Island and Sicheng couldn’t pass on it when the other gave him puppy eyes and lots of pouting. He might be good at bending people to his will, but so was Jaehyun.  
  
Sicheng enjoyed the waves, his bare feet washing as saltwater rolled over them before they retreated back with the current. He took a lot of shots of the sunset that washed over the sea in an orange glow, in awe over the colors tinting more as dusk grew, in streaks of indigo and violet that created such a contrast to the dark rock formations forming around them. He hiked up the mountain with Jaehyun with a straw hat on, laughing because while he took pictures of everything that caught his eye, the latter would press his palm on the top of his head to stop the wind from blowing over. He liked taking pictures of Jaehyun kneeling down to inspect the flowers and trees, his biology major roots shining through, and when the sun hit him just right, he looked like a Disney character come to life. When they had gone through the trail and rested on the hilltop, Sicheng would lay his head on Jaehyun’s lap to sleep and let the other take pictures with a warning to not mess with his camera. (Jaehyun would take pictures of him asleep and he’d save them to make memes when they chatted over the phone.)  
  
“I’ll keep working on my project. I’m sorry to not have any previews but I will deliver the final draft before I submit it if there are any mistakes.” He said, smiling sheepishly as his professor looked over the folder in his hand with his old photos. It’s been a week after since he got back to the club, heeding the warning given to him and he had to pester his classmates for help to take some of the exercises when they were outside. His teacher took note of this and asked him where his camera was, and Sicheng evaded the question entirely.  
  
The man nodded, adjusting his glasses and closing the folder gently. “I hope to see the end results as soon as possible. And try not to lose your camera next time, will you?” he warned him, sending him out the door with a flick of his wrist.  
  
Sicheng pulled out his phone the minute he was outside, texting Kun to come meet him at the student’s longue behind the library to get his camera back.  
  
They may have been only friends for one semester but Kun was almost like an elder brother that teased Sicheng to no end, always meddling with him in class and insulting him playfully. He’s been always the one who called out Sicheng whenever he tried to charm himself out of an assignment because he needed to do a project for another class. There was always a calculated look on his face as if he knew so much more than he let on and he read people like the back of his hand. The sharp-witted words he delivered was what always landed him in trouble, once getting penalized and getting held back for a year as a result of sassing a teacher about how her failed divorce being the reason she’s displacing her anger on her students. It’s an admirable feat as Kun’s honesty knows no bounds and Sicheng liked that about him. He could stop pretending for a while but it still makes him nervous of the schemes under Kun’s smile.  
  
Kun is sitting on one of the circled blocks for chairs on the outdoor side, listening to music with his earphones jammed in his ears. He’s bobbing his head to the music without a care in the world and Sicheng pursed his lips. He doesn’t see anything close to his camera, and Kun’s bag is just a sling bag that could probably fit one notebook and a pen, miffed that he didn’t tell him anything after their phonecall.  
  
“Okay, come.” That was all Kun replied to him and he’s suddenly getting a bad feeling about this. Trusting Kun with his camera was like trusting a hungry cat to stay while a steaming dish was open for invitation on the table: a hella lot of trouble for a mess they'll make and expect you to fix for them.  
  
Sicheng walked to his side, sitting down next to him when Kun doesn’t even notice his arrival with his eyes clothes. He’s so immersed in the music Sicheng takes one bud off to listen too, eyebrows furrowing at the screaming that he hears.  
  
“What the hell?” he said, Kun turning his head to smile at him as he took the earbud to put back on. He leaned back, scooting a little to give Sicheng more room and it’s only making the younger nervous. Kun is the one person you shouldn’t use your last call line for in a game because he will always find ways to screw you over, just for the heck of it.  
  
“Well, I see you’re still in one piece. I thought you’d be limping. But I guess he was merciful, huh?”  
  
Sicheng’s nose scrunched up, sneering even when he’s flushing at the admission that Kun knew what happened probably from reading him. “None of your business.”  
  
“It kinda is with how you’re not as virginal as you like to present. Then again, you take pictures with your finger on your lips that makes you look twinky-“  
  
“Oh my god, stop talking and give me my camera.” Sicheng hissed, covering his burning face with his hands because there was no way Kun would ever think seriously. The elder smiled deviously at his reaction, clasping his hands like some evil mastermind and leaning closer.  
  
He accentuated each word, popping the end as if it was necessary “I don’t have it.”  
  
There is a split second Sicheng’s heart stopped, nose flaring as he sucked a breath with his mouth pressed tightly. He was going to murder Kun with his bare hands, burn his body to get rid of the evidence and scatter his ashes around the city but Kun continued.  
  
“I gave it to Taeyong’s band member.”  
  
Sicheng’s need to murder Kun just got worse, jumping off his seat to shriek “How do you even-“  
  
Kun cuts him off before he could finish his thought, smugly cocking his head to the side “It doesn’t take much to ask someone especially when they whisk your friend away to hook up in some back alley. I had things to do and you were preoccupied with him so I went to give your camera to those band mates of his. They agreed, and then I went my merry way.”  
  
If only murder was legal and Sicheng didn’t have the self-control of a saint, Kun would be dead by now. He settled with glaring daggers at him, wondering if he was dropped as a child or he really just likes pushing Sicheng’s buttons.  
  
“Kun-gege, do you know how important that camera was?” Sicheng won’t scream. He’ll save that for later when he’s at home and kick the walls as he throws a hissy fit, because it would be less embarrassing. Even if he punched Kun, it won’t change the fact he won’t get his camera back.  
  
The elder Chinese male nodded with face turning serious as he looked up at Sicheng. It’s the inquisitive kind of stare, deeply thinking about a delicate topic like he's analyzing how to break it to him. He’s aware of what he might be thinking. And it’s not the answer to his question.  
  
“I do,” he said softly, reaching out to touch Sicheng’s arm “That’s why I trusted it to them.”  
  
“They’re going to see the photos I took.” He replied.  
  
“I doubt Taeyong would let them,” Kun fired back immediately, circling his fingers around his wrist and smiling when he pressed his thumb on the inside of it “Oh, your heartbeat picked up.”  
  
Kun’s already figuring out the feelings that Sicheng is still trying to understand. He pulled his hand away from his hold, out of reflex mostly but it only served to make Kun smile even wider. Body language was all he needed, and Sicheng’s honesty was basically a blinking red light with every move he made.  
  
“Kun-gege, who did you give it to?” Sicheng doesn’t know what’s louder, the ringing in his ears or the repeated mantra of Taeyong’s voice saying he’s going to regret it if he came back to his sights again.  
  
“Nakamoto Yuta.” He replied simply, standing up with a sigh and smoothing down his shirt to get rid of any imaginary wrinkle. Kun’s too calm and it only makes Sicheng’s panic worse, even as he skips as he walked past him and clapped his hand on his shoulder to comfort him.  
  
“I hate you.”  
  
Kun smirked, “I know, and that’s exactly why I like messing with you.”  
  
He’s on the list of the people who’ll be the death of him. Taeyong is already on top of that list and Kun would like to see his murder as he drinks fancy white wine out of a champagne glass. Sicheng half hoped that something close to karma happens to him, but he’s not that petty. He’ll have to deal with his own problems instead of worrying about anything else right now.

…

Doyoung’s been hanging around their dorm for the past weeks, a surprise that didn’t go over Sicheng’s head.

“He’s basically part of our dorm now. Jaehyun, what aren’t you telling me?” he asked his roommate whose eloquent reply came with him breaking a plate on the sink. Sicheng stared blankly at him then as he awaited the verbal confirmation but never got any, Jaehyun rushing out to pick up a call (which likely was Doyoung). 

Jaehyun’s relationship were typically messy, Sicheng’s seen half of them go down in shambles because they were all possessive assholes who wanted to control Jaehyun. He remembered the incessant calls, the all too venomous looks sent his way when they picked the fair boy during date nights and he’d once been threatened to keep his hands off Jaehyun. The irony of that statement is still something he and Jaehyun laughed about when they brought up exes. There are no strings attached when he hooks up with his best friend, just something of a comfort and a way for cold nights to be spent. They never went beyond heavy petting and hand jobs, making out mostly because Sicheng wanted to learn how to kiss. It’s a very odd dynamic that attributed to their closeness so it was easy to read each other.

Jaehyun is serious about Doyoung.

He always smiled when he received a text while he does his homework, lips pressed on the top of his phone with his lovesick look. Sicheng would find him talking to someone in the middle of the night laughing softly and muffled as he much he could with his comforter to not disturb Sicheng. There are spaced out stares on the distance, a sudden fondness that comes to his face and he’s really curious.

Doyoung is considerably better than any of Jaehyun’s exes, Sicheng realized.

They were hanging out on the couch, Jaehyun running his fingers through Sicheng’s hair as they watched the cooking channel. He pointed the dishes he promised to cook for him, Sicheng dozing off a little with how nails are slowly dragged on his scalp like a massage. He’s barely there at the cusp of sleep when Jaehyun pressed a kiss on his forehead and he whined a little, rolling to the side.

In the state of his drowsiness, he registered Doyoung staring at the both of them with an expression Sicheng can’t place. He forgot that he was here for a moment and was about to make a move to stand when he realized no, Doyoung was decidedly not here before.

He bolted upright, back straight in panic as his gaze flickered from him to Jaehyun “Doyoung-hyung?” he’s ashamed that he didn’t notice him there.

Doyoung chuckled, waving at him and Jaehyun’s smile is so bright it just blinded Sicheng. He pushed me off a little, excited as he ran right into Doyoung’s arms with a loud “How did you get here!”

The elder rolled his eyes, brandishing a key from his pocket and tapping it on the bridge of Jaehyun’s nose “You said I could come whenever but I guess now is a bad time to ask you to try some of my aunt’s fried chicken. The grand opening is today and they want to meet you.”

Jaehyun giggled like school girl, a sight that makes Sicheng gag but he hid it well. It’s very obvious how much they liked each other with how Jaehyun isn’t detaching himself and Doyoung’s palm is pressed flat at the small of his back.

“Get a room.” He hissed, rubbing his eyes as if he’d been wronged and Jaehyun stuck his tongue out at him.

“I won’t get chicken for you, you little brat.” He yelled as he ushered Doyoung to sit while he changed to more fitting clothes. The elder smiled politely as he took the seat next to Sicheng. To ease his rising anxiety at being threatened again and ultimately proving Jaehyun should never ever date, he yelled back a “Takes one to know one!”

Doyoung chuckled at his clap back and Sicheng smiled sheepishly. He wondered what made him different from the men before, other than he has a really cute bunny-like appearance and his neck was a thing of marvel. If attraction was shallow to Jaehyun, Sicheng’s questions would have died down.

But no, he is afraid of shallow misconceptions. It doesn’t help Taeyong hung out with this guy so he’s keeping his reservations.

Sicheng cleared his throat and threw a leg over one knee to try to look threatening “So-“

“You and Jaehyun have a strong bond.”

He lets his mouth hang open, words all flying out of his head as Doyoung shook his head with barely-suppressed laughter. He gritted his teeth but with the flush on his face, it isn’t really effective “You just saw him kiss my forehead. Any kind of machismo urge to kill me comes to mind?”

Doyoung made an impressed sound at the back of his throat, his lips quirked in amusement “Jaehyun said you’re not good at Korean but your vocabulary is better than mine.”

At the compliment, Sicheng puffed his chest and nodded approvingly “I like fun words,” Realizing he was curved, he pouted “You’re really not going to bring it up?”

“I saw you two kissing each other on the cheek repeatedly and calling each other pet names thinking I wasn’t already outside once,” Doyoung admitted, shrugging as he leaned on the couch and waited for Sicheng to stop choking on his own spit before he continued “It helps Jaehyun tells me a lot about you and honestly, I can’t be mad at you for anything when you’re one of the concrete things in his life.”

At any rate, it is a pleasant surprise to know that Doyoung is not like Taeyong who held grudges for the littlest of things. On the other hand, it only makes Sicheng jealous of how serious Jaehyun and Doyoung’s relationship must be for them to be this understanding.

Doyoung patted him on the head, sensing his worries and sighing fondly “You’re a great person from what Jaehyun says,” he mulled over the next words, popping his mouth before he decided to add “You don’t deserve Taeyong’s hate.”

They don’t manage to talk about it more, Jaehyun already rushing out in his sweater and faded blue jeans slinging his arm around Doyoung. “Well, more chicken for us.” He said, smiling cheekily at Sicheng who just rolled his eyes at him. The two made playful jabs of their elbows at each other as if to fight but Doyoung pushed between them as he stood up.

“Come on, kids. Break it off.”

Sicheng doesn’t hesitate to say “Sure, mom.”

Jaehyun choked on his laughter and Doyoung does the same before they bid goodbye to him, the latter whispering he will bring him some take-out. Sicheng decided he likes Doyoung a whole lot more now.

 

Sicheng mulled over how to take his camera back for a week after that. He preoccupied himself with his other subjects, working overnight at the library to get his mind off the upcoming deadlines and not letting his mind wander to dark eyes flashing with the bright light of the club calling to him like a siren. The pictures might be lost now, that Yuta dude showing them to Taeyong and he didn’t hesitate to delete everything so Sicheng could wallow in misery for failing his major. As far-fetched as it may be, Sicheng wouldn’t put it past him to do so.

He wouldn’t pinpoint the exact kind of person Taeyong is without all that hatred he spews and the unforgiving way he stared at him. There is a weight of accusation that doesn’t sit well in his stomach, the articles about the son and mother disappearing because he stood up for himself coming back again and again.

Meeting Taeyong was meeting his number one anti of sorts, if he went by what Jaehyun said when he spoke about people who loathed him for no reason.

It was always his habit to wander around the city even at night to capture the duality of how the surroundings change without any light. There is an untouchable aspect to the world when there is barely any coherency left for people to connect every little piece of the picture. Sicheng loves contrasts, loves the way that he can create something powerful from the simplest scenes with angles and proper placement. So with the club’s minimalist sign drew him, snapping a little that the bouncer stared at him worriedly. A big smile had the man reeling back, sheepishly returning it as he let Sicheng slip inside without any trouble. The hallway inside led him to a flight of stairs that elevated to a space where there was so much life, brimming with energy that it knocked his breath away. Dancing was a favorite of his when he was stressed and everyone here was having the time of their life. He considered letting his camera down to follow the vibe but something caught his eye when a flare of the many spotlights moved past.

Sicheng looked up to see the stage already being cleaned up, the band bickering and shouting over the music about the things they needed to do. He is staring at the backdrop at first before a pink-haired male obscures the view and he’s not sure where he is anymore.

Taeyong was beautiful even in the distance, simple white shirt and ripped jeans as he jumped off the platform. At the first meeting, it was hard for him to fully appreciate because he was gawking terribly. Sicheng doesn’t really know why but he followed him as he walked to the bar, hands clasping hard on his camera with the itch he had to take a photo.  He’s too busy thinking that he doesn’t see that he’s barreling straight to him, yelping and moving his torso away to protect his camera while the drink is spilled right on the person’s chest. The rest of it splashed right into Sicheng’s eyes, screeching from the pain.

“Oh my god, are you okay?” he heard someone ask but he shook his head as he kept his eyes shut to get the sting off. It didn’t work and he’s led to a bathroom, kept close with a hand on his waist to guide him. He really should be worried he might be getting kidnapped but there is wet towel on his eyes and the voice again speaks “Try using this to get the pain off your eyes. I wasn’t looking.”

Sicheng nodded absent-mindedly as he wiped his eyes roughly, cursing to himself when he realized his eyeliner was going to be removed and he’ll look like he didn’t sleep for 127 years. Better his appearance suffers than his eyesight permanently getting damaged so he blinked his eyes open to just in time see the smile morph to confusion. The pink-haired male blinked taking in Sicheng’s make-up less face before he snapped back in reality and gritted his teeth.

“You.”

“What?” he asked, gulping as he looked at the door, just in case shit goes down “I didn’t see you-“

“Winwin.”

All the color drained out of Sicheng’s face at the name, eyes widening that it hurt and he doesn’t even think before he bolted. Too bad, it was expected and he felt an arm around his waist to pull him back roughly. Sicheng’s mind is on panic mode, digging his nails on his attacker’s skin that he knew it would hurt and kicking his legs to jostle him off. He’s hoping to make enough noise that it would alert people but before he screamed, a hand covers his mouth.

“Stop fussing, you brat! You’re making it seem worse!”

Sicheng shook his head because hell, it is worse than it actually is. If he has managed to get through the past years without anyone knowing about Winwin, then he has every reason to panic when he’s blown his cover already. He cursed again for whatever made it so easy for him to be recognizable but he doesn’t really have time before there is an accidental bite on his shoulder that made him screech. It’s muffled but the male paused, surveying how all the fighting had made them pressed to each other and before long, he lets go.

“You’re here,” he said, barely contained anger thrumming through him while Sicheng is cornered on the sink with legs bracketing his “What the fuck are you doing here when every private investigator told me they couldn’t track you?”

Holy fuck, he’s insane. There was absolutely no reason for him to be looking for Sicheng when it’s been so long ago. He didn’t recognize him with his makeup on but it looks like that Taeyong has gotten his features down he could find him blindfolded.

He looked up, not knowing what to reply. His heart's on overdrive as he tried to find a way out but that didn’t mean he stopped appreciating. It’s a stupid quirk he developed as he became fascinated with the angry furrow of thick brows, pink lips that made his white teeth shine and the strands of pink hair that stuck to his forehead in disarray. Sicheng’s attracted to that look on his eyes, hardened with the tempest inside him and Sicheng wants.

He wants and Taeyong is staring down at him like he’s unsure to beat him or eat him up.

“I don’t know who you are.” Sicheng gulped, throat dry from the tension because it didn’t need words for him to feel the hostility. He’s playing with fire and he liked the idea of it, even if being hated for such a shallow reason is making him question this guy’s mentality.

His answer just made the hostility worse, hands grasping on his shoulder it hurt. He looked like he’s trying to smell the lie off of him but all he saw was the passive admission that irked him more.

“You’re a piece of shit,” he laughed bitterly and moved closer that didn’t leave Sicheng any room to breathe “You think you really can just pretend you didn’t ruin my family because you wanted to win that lawsuit?” He’s talking too close to his face, warm puffs of air against his cheek that his legs start to shake.

“Why the fuck you blaming me when I was caught in that like your family was, huh?” he whispered, staring at his eyes to challenge him. Sicheng could feel hands down to dig at his bony hips and it’s a strange thing to do that he wonders if Taeyong’s purely moving on instinct now. There is so much pent up frustration in him that if he bent it even more, he’d snap and there is no telling what he would do next.

Sicheng rolled the dice, taking the chance “Don’t make me the proxy so you can have something to blame other than just accepting that there are things out of your control.”

There are lips slamming on his, teeth clashing and he hissed but the door opened, the feeling gone as fast it came. Taeyong pushed him off roughly that the sink dug to his hip enough it might bruise. The girl who entered the bathroom looked at them drunkenly, giving a thumbs up before leaving.

Sicheng followed after while Taeyong was reeling from what just happened.

The ringing sensation on his teeth and the bruise at the corner of his lips was enough to convince him it wasn’t a hallucination.

It took them longer to catch each other because Sicheng skirted around in the club more often than not without coming closer. He’d aim his camera enough that if Taeyong looked at the lights he’d see the reflection on his lens. It didn’t help that he’d look for him in the crowd without realizing, the guarded stance he carried meant he was itching to fight him again. They met eyes a lot, little smirks from Sicheng whenever he darted out right at the last notes of a song before Taeyong could catch up to him.

There’s a taunt whenever he snapped Taeyong at his best form on stage, the frustration that is clearer now as he almost seemed to crush the microphone in his hand. His shoulders are tensed with his chest puffed out, dripping sweat from his brow that Sicheng captured unabashedly with the colorful lights of the club. It’s a pretty picture, one of his favorites among many more he took in the span of time he kept playing around with him.

Playing tag always has its end and Sicheng is slammed to the back alley (a staple it seemed because Taeyong always barely finds him with how quick he is on his feet), breath knocked out of his lungs. There was no room for words as he wrapped his hands around Sicheng’s throat as if to choke him but he kissed him instead and it’s all a blur after that.

But the bite marks and hickeys were real and they kept piling on his skin like a canvas of everything Taeyong couldn’t verbally communicate. It didn’t help how Taeyong would punish him by not letting him cum because he took pictures again, edging him until he was weeping and licking into his mouth as rough as he could. He’d limp home sometimes and Jaehyun kept asking if he was being assaulted somewhere, only a shake of his head a reply. Sicheng knew self-defense so it wouldn’t make sense that he’d be subdued easily.

So he relied on the photos that Sicheng took, already realizing that he was deeper in trouble than he thought.

…

“So? What are you going to do with your camera?” Jaehyun asked him a week after his meeting with Kun. He’s waiting for Doyoung to come over to help him with his some assignments, code word for they were going to make out and Sicheng should hide in his room to spare the trauma. There’s not much room for Sicheng to argue when he’s worried about the photos he worked so hard on being deleted that meant he needed to start from scratch.  Not a thought he liked at all, pursing his lips as he tucked his chin closer to his chest to seem smaller.

Hugs were always healing to him, especially when he was really down. Clingy behavior is one of the signs that Jaehyun needed to intervene and give him clarity. So Sicheng’s being cuddled on the couch with his back to Jaehyun and arms around him as he strained his neck to look at him. He was forced to take a bath, changed into a pink sweater to help him breathe better and fed with meatball soup so he would have something in him other than his self-loathing.

“Wait for a miracle? Wait for it to grow legs and come back to me sounds good too,” Sicheng retorted, only to get a flick on his forehead “Ow! What do you think?” he hissed, rubbing the sore spot and jerking his head back to hit Jaehyun’s chin.

Pushing him as a response, the latter peered down at his collar. He tugged the neckline lower to see the fading but still obvious rings of the bruises and bite marks that decorated his skin. Whistling, he pressed his fingers down and Sicheng swatted his hand off “That hurts!”

“Is that why you don’t want to go there? You’d get worse than mauled when that guy gets their hands on you?” Jaehyun teased, pulling up the collar before he moved off to sit next to him. He looked contemplative before he patted his back “How about I tell Doyoung to help you? It’s his club and Taeyong would be less likely to kill you with him around.”

Sicheng isn’t surprised he knew the name already, jutting his chin haughtily “I don’t think it matters to him who’s watching. He’d still find a way to dispose of my body.”

Jaehyun’s soothing pats are only making him irritated when he has that shit-eating grin on his face.  He perked up when there was a knock on the door, shoving Sicheng over as he bounced towards to let Doyoung in. From the couch, he could see the Jaehyun hug Doyoung tightly before kissing him repeatedly until the latter is chuckling and pushing him back to get inside. He closed the door, realizing that Sicheng is staring at them with disgust as he waved.

“Oh, I didn’t see you there, Winwin.”

The scrunch on Sicheng’s face worsened and he picked up a pillow to throw at him. Doyoung caught it easily before he rushed over to hit Sicheng repeatedly.

“Jaehyun! Save me!” Sicheng shrieked, running to the back of the couch to hide but the elder followed him as they circled each other laughing “Your boyfriend is going to kill me!”

“Hey, you might as well play nice to Sicheng. And what did you just call him? A nickname? Are you falling for him now?” Jaehyun gasped dramatically, a hand to his chest as he faked sobbing. Sicheng took the pillow from Doyoung to throw at him for his stupid remark.

“Ah, if I thought about Sicheng that way, Taeyong would kill me. He’s very particular about him for some reason.” Doyoung said smoothly, Sicheng flinching at the sudden topic that he didn’t expect him to bring up. It’s pretty much out on the open now and even if Jaehyun barely knew the reason, he is still aware his friend is uncomfortable.

Sicheng doesn’t have any room to deflect it or even run away because Jaehyun is already setting up the trap “Did you know Sicheng lost his camera in your club a few weeks back?”

The revelation made Doyoung’s brow quirk, turning to the younger. He’s probably thinking why Sicheng didn’t tell him or why he didn’t go get it back but he kept that to himself, saying instead “Well, your absence is more obvious with how someone always talks about it. Where did you last see it there? I could help.”

“It’s with some guy called Nakamoto Yuta.” He replied, wringing his hands together because he’s a little worried about asking for help. And there’s a warning in his mind in the form of Taeyong’s voice saying how he’ll be dealt with if he came back.

He’s also not excited. He’s not that much of a masochist.

“Well, I’m bringing Jaehyun to the club next week to introduce him to my friends. They’ve been pulling my leg to bring whoever was occupying my time,” Doyoung confessed sheepishly, rubbing the nape of his neck before he reached over to hold Jaehyun’s hand. The latter squeezed back, smiling fondly at him and Sicheng wants to gag at their display “It’s a win-win situation.”

“I take everything back. I regret you didn’t properly choke on Jaehyun’s dick.” Sicheng deadpanned, Jaehyun groaning at him to let it go and Doyoung’s jaw dropping.

“Well, I’m pretty sure your mouth is preoccupied when you go to the club!” his best friend hissed, pointing at him accusingly to which Sicheng gasped dramatically. Face filled with faux surprise, he put the back of his hand to his forehead and tilting his head like a bad damsel in distress pose.

“Oh, woes! I am embarrassed I can’t have fun when you two made out in a church bathroom,” He doesn’t even let them protest “I have ears and you both are loud when you call. Your sexting and phone sex gives me the worst nightmares.”

“SICHENG!”

…

There is a box underneath his bed that he kept for safekeeping. It’s one of the things he brought with him from China without his parents knowing of its existence.

Inside is just the old magazine spreads, old photo cards and his candid photos that were fraying at the edges and discolored with age despite how much he took extra care of handling them. Once they had chosen to move, part of the settlement was to destroy every proof of his job to protect his identity. Though they managed to delete enough, there were still some who had a special edition magazine spreads that they auctioned for high prices that were taken down per request. Sicheng kept these to help him cope with the past. There were times he always thought that those moments where he’s being pushed down the stairs to discipline him, the verbal abuse that is masked with faux sweetness and stealing a part of his salary before ultimately blaming a child for embellishing the company were imaginary. Almost like childish hallucinations and the hyperactive imagination, Sicheng had to go to therapy for a few years to get the facts straight. This was part of it, facing the photos taken while behind the scenes he was getting hurt.

There was nothing special about him. He was born with a pretty face structure and he always knew how to play it cute when needed or be chic if it was called for. It was his relatives who pushed him into auditioning to the model industry that his parents humored because they were tight on cash. It wasn’t forced like people gossiped around, in fact, it was what made Sicheng more aware of his surroundings, more in tune of reading people.

But he looked over his smiling face, hair close cropped and wearing the most ridiculous fashion with a Thai kid he befriended in between takes and wondered. He was already thin then but not as tall that it made his clothes swallow him and sometimes he was given ridiculously big glasses to play with. He’s brimming with life with his eyes squeezed shut and the laughter lines prominent when he laughed. Frozen on the paper, Sicheng always felt distanced to this version of him because he had grown up. He’d move on.

So why didn’t Taeyong? He is still rooted to hating a kid that was a victim of circumstance.

It boggled his mind enough that he wanted to see to what extent that hatred was.

There is no denying that Sicheng is attracted to him. Or perhaps the idea that he presented to the boy, trying to be aloof and cold whenever he’d leave hot kisses down his skin or tell him how he’s the person he loathed. Taeyong is all barbed wire over a very open book no matter how much he tried to fake everything. He’s good at masking but he’s not good at making it go away entirely.

Sicheng knew that because he’d linger his hand when they were done, eyes searching his as if lost and gritting his teeth to shake his head. He’d leave but his pace is slower than he intends. Sicheng knew because he observed Taeyong more than he should, more than necessary.

So yes, sometimes Sicheng thought about him when he’s doing his assignments for his other classes. He’d wonder how Taeyong is at the morning, not shrouded with the darkness and mystery of the night, what he does when he isn’t singing. There are even questions in his mind: about the band, about the things he liked to do in past time and if he ever was mature enough to let things go. The relationships he had, the ones he lost and kept and how many had given him hell for the scandal Sicheng brought.

He’s lovesick. He’s pining. Sicheng’s not even sure why he misses someone who hated him but he understands that it would be better to get things over with.

Taeyong would probably eat him alive and he’ll thank him.

…

“So, what do you think?”

Sicheng looked up from lacing his boots, tilting his head as Jaehyun strolled in with the outfit he picked up. They still had an hour before Doyoung came to pick them up on his Prius, Jaehyun more nervous than he’s ever seen but with what he’s wearing it’s for a different reason.

“You’re going to fuck in the dimly-lit corner, aren’t you?” he said blankly. Those jeans were way too tight, denim hugging his legs nicely that it made his ass stand out and the black button-down he wore made the milky glow of his skin even better. His brown-blonde hair is swept off his face, messed artfully and he even put on a little gloss on his lips. He looked like he was ready to ravage and Sicheng’s rolling his eyes at his eagerness.

Jaehyun pouted and there was an unsettling cute with how he’s looking hot right now “I want to impress his friends.”

“You’re going to impress him a lot more and you’ll leave me to my demise.”

He stood up, Jaehyun staring at what he’s wearing and because he’s who he is, didn’t hesitate to point out “You’re going to be catching eyes with that.” He said with a conspiring tone.

Sicheng’s thrown a denim jacket over his sheer tank top, tucking it in black jeans that had holes on the thighs and the knees. His combat boots were certainly present, his dyed hair swept across his forehead but Jaehyun combed his fingers to make it a little more artful instead of good boy. There was nothing wrong with what he’s wearing, other than maybe the jeans showing more skin than usual and he’s mulling over whether to put his eyeliner or not.

“Or a certain pair.” Jaehyun added unhelpfully, pulling at Sicheng’s belt hoops to fit his jeans better like a nagging mother. A minute after, he decided to pull the front of the tank top and pushed him into the bathroom, chuckling a bit when Sicheng quirked an eyebrow.

“I’ll call you when Doyoung comes already. You look like you need a minute.”

Sicheng nodded. There is a stare burning on his face before Jaehyun added “And Sicheng?”

“Hmm?”

“If he tries to do anything bad, call me or Doyoung or hell, 911. Preferably me so I can beat his ass.”

Sicheng closed the door to his face with a roar of laughter that mirrored from the other side. He looked over to the cabinet next to the mirror, pulling it open as he dug for his eyeliner. The minute he popped the cap off, he looked at his reflection. In a split moment, he wondered. Taking a deep breath, he pocketed the pencil instead and fixed his hair before going outside just as Jaehyun emerged from his room with his phone.

“Ready?”

Sicheng nodded.

 

Doyoung was different when he was in the club, it seemed. Sicheng’s shock over him wearing skinny jeans with a sleeveless shirt and tasteful shoes was laughed at and he had to cover his eyes a lot because Jaehyun didn’t keep his hands off him on the way. It’s enough to make him forget his nervousness for what might happen, the first to get out the car because Doyoung was grabbing Jaehyun’s thigh “by accident”.

“Come on. They’re by the bar.” Doyoung said as they followed him inside, lips puffy and Jaehyun looking a little too self-satisfied. The bouncer high-fived him then greeting Doyoung before they had managed to slip past the other people getting inside.

Sicheng’s eyes immediately wander to the stage set up and he squashed down the disappointment to find it empty. Today must not be their gig night, pouting before he grabbed Jaehyun’s sleeve. The latter circled his hand on his wrist to help him calm down but Sicheng didn’t feel any better. He’s nervous, it was a given. But the excitement of being caught is still there and if he dwelled more, the anticipation of what could happen. It didn’t help he missed Taeyong either and he kept jumping at the slightest movement, panicking that Jaehyun forcefully sat him down one of the bar stools. At the same time, Doyoung’s surrounded by a crowd that Sicheng recognized which only made him turn his back with widened eyes.

“Okay, I’ll get some water after I go see what Doyoung wants with me, okay?” his friend hushed, leaving him and Sicheng hated that he had to dampen his mood. This was a big deal to those two, just as it was to Sicheng with his camera. He’s the one intruding here that he sighed, cradling his chin on his palm as he called for the bartender to give him some vodka.

A pair of arms wrapped around his shoulders, pushing him to someone’s chest and he yelped “Nope, nope! No alcohol for this guy!” a familiar (but he couldn’t place how it was familiar) voice said as they tugged him backwards even more.

Sicheng craned his neck to see the drummer, face turning pale at his mischievous grin. He’s never talked to anyone of Taeyong’s band members mostly due to self-preservation and here he is with one. It’s the same one who gave him leers and playful jabs as if he loved irking him and Taeyong at the same time. The only reason he probably didn’t come near was because Taeyong would stop him with a warning.

“Winwin? Or is that just some kinky nickname between you and Yong?” he teased, a strange lilt in his voice that Sicheng wondered if he’s from a different country. He doesn’t really know how to react as he’s pulled up and this stranger is looking at him from head to toe.

He can’t react enough when he kissed the air beside his cheek enough it almost made him reel back and his laughter is so loud that he’s starting to wonder if he’s drunk.

“Aw! You’re so cute! No wonder he takes a bite of you every chance he gets.” He smirked, shaking Sicheng like a rag doll.

“Yuta, what the hell? You’re scaring him,” Sicheng recognized the bassist, relief in his face when he pried Yuta off of him with a huff “Hansol’s told you before to stop flirting with everything that moves.”

“I wasn’t,” Yuta muttered, face scrunching as he pouted at Sicheng “Look at him. I want to keep him in my pocket. You have Ten who’s basically tiny and Hansol is too big to carry. Well, not that being big is bad-“

The taller man, black hair falling over one of his eyes slapped him at the back of his head, annoyed as Yuta stuck out his tongue at him “Shut your mouth. He doesn’t need to know that.”

Sicheng’s barely registering now that the man’s name before was Yuta and it took him a split second to connect it to the name Kun gave him “Are you Nakamoto Yuta?” he butted in as the two bickered back and forth about propriety, Yuta’s smile almost splitting his face at the call of his name.

“Well, don’t wear it out-“

Sicheng’s had enough and pursed his lips “I need my camera, please.” He said, head ducked down because the other guy is staring at the side of his face with this weird expression.

Instead of answering, he turned to Johnny with an amazed expression “Hey, did you know Doyoung’s new boyfriend is also a radio broadcaster? Maybe you two can host a show together. He’s really so white that I can almost see him shining in the dark! Damn, Doyoung must be real lucky.”

“You talk as if you’re single.”

“Well, I’m always open to options. Hansol knows I love him a lot more than cute, little things.” He directed back to Sicheng who’s starting to get annoyed at why he changed the subject so fast. It’s evident that his impatience is starting to rise, crossing his arms as he started to think about what they had done to his precious camera.

Perhaps his photos were shown to Taeyong already, the horror that surged making his head spin and he tipped back a little. The black-haired guy stopped his momentum with a hand to his back, worry on his face and Sicheng looked down again. His project was important but his pride on taking them mattered more that to think it would wasted because of petty grudges is making him close to tearing up.

“Oh, we didn’t touch it,” Yuta soothed him, sensing his discomfort and leaned down to whisper “Taeyong took it from me before we could mess with it. Seemed very defensive over it, right Johnny?”

Sicheng sucked a breath in, both in relief and fear and he hoped Johnny didn’t feel him shaking. It meant only one thing and there is no escape. His veins are thrumming, his heartbeat in distress but he’s breathless from the rush of adrenalin that came with it. Taeyong has his camera and he might not even get to see it untouched, thinking about all the ways it could be scratched or handled incorrectly.

“Yuta, I think Hansol’s calling for you,” Johnny pushed him with both hands on his back, pointing to the tall wide-eyed guy who flinched when he was caught looking “Try to explain to him why the hell you’re making moves on this kid.”

Yuta merely turned his gaze to Sicheng, biting his lip as he smirked “Well, three’s a crowd. Hansol wouldn’t mind. See you, cutie~”

Sicheng felt the shivers crawl down his spine and he unconsciously moved behind the elder to protect himself. With one last wink, Yuta dashed over the Hansol guy by placing a loud, wet kiss on his lips and wrapping his arms around him like an overgrown snake. He’s yelling loudly, doing aegyo that made Hansol push him off with a cringe.

“You take good pictures.”

Oh. He forgot about Johnny there for a second. He blinked up at him, laughing nervously. It’s just a joke probably, even if he really shouldn’t take Yuta’s word for it. He lamely punched him as if to diffuse the seriousness “Yeah, I guess.”

If the elder didn’t believe him, he didn’t comment and just moved his head from side to side “Yuta didn’t see it but I did. There are of lot of pictures of the club in your gallery and I hope it isn’t too personal to ask,” his eyes are piercing, almost trying to peer into Sicheng’s soul “Taeyong appears a lot on your photos.”

If his heart could stop and he’d drop dead, he would. Sicheng, however, has always learned how to stop letting too much show on his face and smiled instead. It probably looked awkward, his smile too quirked on one side and his eyebrows too far up to be natural. He’s also a seasoned liar but not impromptu.

“It’s none of your business,” Sicheng sucked a deep breath and widened his smile more that the air he inhaled went out there because he’s so nervous “Hyung.”

He doesn’t expect the pat on his head, a quirk of Johnny’s lips as he started walking away. Sicheng’s staring at his back as he walked, surprised when he turned and gestured for him to follow. When it was clear that Sicheng was mentally mulling over why he should listen, Johnny yelled over the music “I’m taking you to your camera.”

Taeyong’s name is left unsaid but Sicheng’s already bounding over to match his steps. He looked over to the side of the club where Yuta was pinching Jaehyun’s cheeks while Doyoung seemed to be looking for something as he kept turning his head on different directions. Johnny walked with him, tugging his wrist when he was lagging behind and the dancers on the floor were bumping into him.

He’s listening to the pumping bass when he heard Johnny mumble something.

“What?”

“You were a model before right?”Sicheng pursed his lips, unsure whether to answer that but Johnny started to just run his mouth off “Taeyong’s not really as bad as he seems to be. All that hate is just something that he hasn’t properly expressed. I’m not defending him or trying to justify that you’re not in the red here but I like to think I’m in the middle ground.”

They stood in front of a door, marked with employees only and there’s a distinct sound of someone arguing inside. He reached for the door handle but is stopped by Johnny’s hand as he looked up at him. He has a rather complex expression on his face, equal parts concerned and threatening. It’s as if he’s making sense of Sicheng as his thoughts processed before he opened his mouth.

“Don’t hurt each other more than you need to.”

A strange warning that Sicheng felt the ominous feeling creeping back in as they open the door and slipped inside. There’s a stack of boxes on the sides, a couch pushed to them to give some sort of seating. He stopped on his tracks, seeing Johnny walk towards a smaller boy who’s struggling to keep Taeyong up with how he’s leaning all his weight on him. The boy perked up at the sight of the elder, accepting the kiss planted on his lips before Taeyong is grabbed by the shoulders to help him stand easier.

Sicheng could only gasp when he recognized the pixie-like beauty and small frame, eyes that still twinkled like when they were still young “Ten-hyung?”

Ten’s eyebrows shot up, mouth gaping before he gathered Sicheng into a hug and bouncing in glee. He’s yelling a flurry of “Oh my god! Oh my god!” right into his ear but Sicheng didn’t care as he wrapped his arms around him in return. It was different because he grew taller but the familiarity is there, something that made him tuck his chin on Ten’s shoulder even if it meant bending down more.

Just because he left that life didn’t mean he’d forget the only friend he had then.

They parted with bright smiles, Ten touching his cheek before slapping him heavily on his arm. He’s laughing loudly now, Johnny confused at the exchange and Ten is too giddy to answer his stare. “People told me you left for China! What the hell are you doing here? And you didn’t even send me a postcard.”

“I wasn’t allowed to, hyung. I wanted to but they said it was risky.” He confessed, pouting at the agreements they signed. It was an abrupt departure after all and Ten was off to shoot some summer promo where he was forced in Hawaiian shirts and flip flops to know. Sicheng was glad that he still remembered him, his heart lighter and he didn’t want to let go just yet. But Taeyong is fussing, peeking out of where he dug his head on Johnny’s shoulder to find how close Ten and Sicheng were.

There’s a flush on his cheeks, half-lidded eyes zeroing on Sicheng’s and he pushed Johnny aside. He’s more alert now, nose flaring as he grabbed Sicheng’s collar to put him at eye-level. He looked like he’s sick from the flu because the brush of his knuckles on his skin is lukewarm. It’s almost like his anger is surfacing underneath his skin enough to make his temperature rise.

“What the fuck are you doing here?”

Sicheng doesn’t break his gaze. Why should he when he’s wanted to see him? The taunts are empty to his ears because he’s heard it before, repeated until it’s exhausted its meaning. Taeyong can call him scum but he’d just think it was a code word for something.

“That’s getting old, grandpa. Any better insults there inside you or is it all just dust collecting in there?”

Taeyong’s grip tightened around his collar and his knuckles are digging right on the sensitive column of his throat, gulping that it hit the hard bone and he squinted “I warned you before.”

“You really think you own this place to make me leave, huh?” Sicheng cooed, rolling his eyes and ignored that his knees are knocking each other as Taeyong’s leg crept closer to his own “I’m here for important business.”

Johnny and Ten are strangely quiet, surveying them and exchanging knowing looks as they back away. There is something intrusive of seeing them fight because Taeyong was never this mean and to do that to Sicheng who Ten thought was as harmless as a fly was surprising. It was better than any K-Drama on television and if only he can bust out some popcorn.

Taeyong’s holding back, his eyebrows furrowed and gritted teeth that definitely hurt. He smelled like smoke and something else, a scent that makes Sicheng itch to bury his nose to his neck to know what it is. But he clenched his fists so tight that his nails are probably drawing blood and jutted his chin up “Where’s my camera?”

“Are you sure you’re not here because you like taunting me?”

Wide eyes in mock confusion, pouting at him in a way that he knew would irk Taeyong, he replied “Little old me? Why would you be so intimidated of me, hyung?”

“Careful with that tongue, _Winwin._ ”

“Oh, you would know, would you, Taeyongie-hyung?” Sicheng retorted in a high whiny tone that he can see the restraint almost melting from the elder’s eyes and his wrist is seized in a bruising grip. It’s probably his self-preservation running away with its tail tucked between his legs, all the time off making him irritated Sicheng’s done playing around. “Give me my camera. Why would I even want to see you other than that?”

A split second and Sicheng would have sworn he saw hurt cross his face but Taeyong’s clicking his tongue already for him to decipher. He turned to Johnny, communicating something with his expression that made the other reel back.  Sicheng’s unsure whether Johnny would stop them but he’s tugged out of the room before he can even ask.

Sicheng turned to Jaehyun who spotted him over the crowd, being carried off by someone he didn’t recognize. He latched onto Doyoung who turned but Taeyong already has pushed him outside the door where the bouncer stared at them curiously. Taeyong smiled at him, a sudden change before he hailed a cab.

…

Taeyong’s restless.

He’s a storm brewing, all fidgety with his hands closing and open when they make to his apartment buildings doors, eyes stalking Sicheng’s movement with his peripheral. It’s the tense line of his shoulders and his head stubbornly raised that made Sicheng make sure that he walked slow, the elevator something of a landmine he’d rather not step on.

Being alone meant something else. Being alone meant it was easier to get under his skin.

It doesn’t stop Taeyong from brushing his fingers on the inside of Sicheng’s wrist. A barely there sensation, teasing the sensitive skin and he’d wet his lips as his eyes split second stare openly. When they were inside the metal cage of claustrophobia they call an elevator, Sicheng darted his eyes to find that it was just them alone. Their shoulders brushed and a sharp intake of breath as Sicheng settled on the corner of the elevator. Taeyong pressed a few unnecessary buttons, his body locked tight and the minute the door slid close Sicheng found himself pressed to the wall with the railing digging on his back.

Warm breaths washed over his neck, hands resting under his tanktop to rest at the skin of his hips and Sicheng can’t breathe. His heart is beating hard against his ribcage when there’s lips just pressed on the column of his neck where he recalled the old sting of the bite from weeks before. A swipe of the tongue and Taeyong gagged.

“You put some makeup on it.”

“Well, I don’t need to show it off.”

His sass is rewarded by hands coming up his throat, wrapping around his neck. Nails digging on his pulse point, constricting his breathing enough that it were making him squirm. He gulped, hard to do because the hands tighten. Every breath felt short and unsatisfying but the heat crawled down his spine like wildfire. One of Taeyong’s thumbs found way into the corner of his mouth, nail pressing on the edge of his teeth.  His gaze is filthy and Sicheng looked up wondering if there’s any camera because he doesn’t know how to deal with this.

Taeyong pushed his leg between Sicheng’s thighs, mouthing underneath his ear and growled under his breath “Scared your fuck buddy of a roommate will see?” he chuckled, voice bitter and cruel that Sicheng is clasping his hand to his pink locks “He looks like a bore. Stupid little privileged who has never seen the sun.”

Sicheng angled his head and bit down hard on Taeyong’s jawbone, bone knocking on teeth. The elder slammed his head hard enough that it sent his vision swimming, gasping and choking on the rush of air. His eye twitched, choking out “Take a swing at me, I’d forgive you. Take a swing at Jaehyun, you done fucked up.”

“Defensive?” He muttered and licking a fat stripe on Sicheng’s neck, pressing closer. He’s messily leaving kisses on the underside of his jaw, loosening his grip to massage his Adam’s apple. It’s a strange gesture and when the elevator pinged, he detached so fast it was like he was burned. Taeyong’s eyes are wild as Sicheng managed to get off the wall before there’s a permanent curve on his lower back from the railing. They exit quietly, Sicheng lagging behind thinking he can bolt any minute if Taeyong tried anything funny. His camera could be important but his life was so much more worth than all this trouble.

Sicheng picked up his steps when Taeyong gave him a side glare. He’s not sure why he’s so convinced Taeyong’s going to murder him. His overreacting mind is just trying to cover up the fact he knew what he wanted but he didn’t want to seem like it was good that he wanted this too.

“You can badmouth me but you can’t badmouth Jaehyun.” He whispered, not really caring if Taeyong heard him or not. He’s protective of his best friend, not liking it especially when it came from someone who didn’t understand. Sicheng can take the misdirected anger but to bring someone else into this was unnecessary.

Before he can get inside, his phone vibrated in his pocket and he picked it up to hear the thrumming of the club’s music as well as Jaehyun trying to shout over it. He sounded frantic, probably pacing back and forth with how he can hear the creak of metal every few seconds.The music from the club is muffled, almost background at this point so Jaehyun must be somewhere away from the blaring music. His words are rushed, too fast for him to comprehend with a touch of sarcasm dripping from his tone. Sicheng doesn't know if he's worried or has no faith in Sicheng's decisions that he's already worried about him vanishing out of sight this fast. But then again, their conversation before they left for the club would be quite worrisome. Jaehyun probably thought he was dead in a ditch or beaten in a back alley. "Hey, Jaehyun."

The name made Taeyong flinch, sideyeing him with thinly veiled irritation before he whipped his head back to concentrate on getting to his apartment. His pace is faster now and Sicheng tried to keep up, noting how Taeyong seemed to be grumbling something underneath his breath. It's not pretty, Sicheng noted, that he can easily be jealous over a minor detail but then again this was Taeyong he was talking about. He was the type to let his emotions flicker too fast like a power point presentation in hyper speed in contrast to how Sicheng kept his emotions close to his chest away from prying eyes.

"God, Sicheng! Where the hell are you? It's past your curfew, you nine-year old."

Sicheng rolled his eyes, resisting the urge to laugh at the nickname "Yeah, well, our bedtimes are the same so suck it up, loser."

"Shut up. Where are you? Please don't be in another alley or I swear to god-"

"I'm not in the club for sure." Sicheng cut him off.

There's a beat of silence before Jaehyun asked "Are you alone?"

"No."

"Well, goddamn. You really might get murdered this time." Jaehyun muttered angrily, probably rubbing his face to get rid of the stress Sicheng is giving him.

Sicheng doesn't hold back his laughter this time, almost doubling over as Jaehyun screamed that there was nothing funny about it, clutching his stomach as he continued giggling because Jaehyun really didn't understand that Sicheng was the one who walked right into the lion's den. Or perhaps, in this situation, he is the lion welcomed by another into their den. the sound of his laugh made Taeyong look at him over his shoulder, eyes wide and there's a mix of confusion and the jealousy coming back. Sicheng's laughter faded, mouth in an awkward smile as he realized that Taeyong's taking out his keys to open the door.

"I'll call you later, okay?" Sicheng told Jaehyun, cutting off the call and pocketing his phone.

When they went inside Taeyong’s apartment, Sicheng is almost disconcerted with how clean it was. The smell of Febreeze is strong that he must have just recently cleaned this house though there really wasn’t any trace of dust or spills. The whole layout was minimalist, white and full of space other than the black couch with a small coffee table in front of it. His walls are bare and impersonal that Sicheng wants to run his fingers to see if the wood is cold like the owner tries to be. He can’t survey more however as Taeyong roughly grabbed his wrist before he could wander off.

“Don’t sneak off like a thief.”  Taeyong warned with a weight in his words that makes Sicheng lick his lips. He followed him to a door deeper inside the apartment, eyeing the cabinets where there’s barely any dirt or even laundry haphazardly thrown around. He can tell that Taeyong’s too private to show anything that can show his motivations, his fears and it’s just making Sicheng wonder.

“That stupid camera is here.” Taeyong’s voice drifted from inside his room, the door wide open as he went inside.

Sicheng stood on the doorway, contemplating. Knowing the minute he gets inside there, he’s going to have to give up the resistance. Taeyong has his back to him, digging into his drawers as he took off his jacket. His hair is sticking to his nape because of sweat, the veins of his hand illuminated with the light from outside his window. Sicheng doesn’t know why he didn’t turn the lights on but Taeyong looked at him over his shoulder.

His eyes are dark, black orbs in the lack of light. Like those times in the bar where he wanted to catch Sicheng when he knew full well he’s going to slip if he didn’t keep a tighter hold. A challenge that he’s keeping open where Sicheng has the choice to leave or play right into his hands.

He needs his camera.

It’s the only reasoning he repeats as he crossed the threshold.

The door closed with a click, Taeyong’s spine straightening as he sucked in a breath. Sicheng looked at the bareness of his bedside drawer to his camera sitting innocently right there on the surface that he can sigh in relief.

He doesn’t reach it because Taeyong whipped around and pushed him onto the bed. His back met with the soft mattress, mouth covered before he can make a sound. His tongue is gliding to the insides of his cheek, wet smacking when Taeyong detached only to bite down hard on his lip. Sucking his tongue inside his mouth, Sicheng’s groans are swallowed with the indecent sound of slurping when Taeyong licked on his chin. His hands are useless, slapping against Taeyong’s shoulders to gain leverage.

“I don’t get why you couldn’t just give me my camera-“he whined when Taeyong grinded down his crotch, the heat of the room suffocating. Another kiss that quiets him down before Sicheng pulled at his hair to separate them so he can speak “Fuck.”

“Thinking you can just wear shit like this,” Sicheng’s jacket is ripped off of him, thrown onto one corner of the room before Taeyong roamed his feverish hands under his tank top. The warmth against his clammy skin is making him dizzy, heating him up and he found himself raking his nails on Taeyong’s scalp “Who’re you trying to impress?”

Sicheng nipped at his lips when he kissed him again, chest to chest to feel the bulge in Taeyong’s jeans “Why do you care?” he whispered breathlessly when his tank top is raised over his head and messed with his hair.

There’s always a kiss that stopped him from speaking, nibbling like he’s trying to take piece of him. Hands restlessly caressing at his sides and fingers that wander inside the holes of his jeans, Taeyong’s mouth descended down to his neck to suck at his pulse point. It doesn’t take long for him to reintroduce his teeth but stops, leaning over to his bedside table to take a couple of wet wipes and swipe them across his neck.

“Oh, god.” Sicheng said in exasperation, head lolling to the side to hide his laughter but Taeyong’s hand landed right on his crotch to silence him. He stared at the old darkened marks littering the tan skin, fingers tracing them like connecting constellations.

“Cake makeup all you want on your face, I don’t mind. Your neck?” He bite down harshly on his collarbone, licking the sting before he bent down to suck his nipple. He rolled it between his teeth as he moved to take off Sicheng’s belt, whimpers from the younger’s mouth fastening his pace. “What are you so afraid of?”

A lot of things, Sicheng thought. He raised his hips to help his jeans off, leaving him in his black boxers. Taeyong ran the pads of his fingers across the inside his thigh, licking into Sicheng’s mouth again. He unbuckled his belt, shoving them off before he lay back between the other’s thighs. It’s a disconcerting feeling to be skin to skin, the slide of warmth and supple flesh when all they’ve done is quick, easy hand jobs.

“What do you want?” Sicheng asked, desperate to know where this is going. He can’t tell what’s right anymore when Taeyong removes his boxers and wraps his fingers around the base of his cock.

He doesn’t answer, pumping Sicheng in smooth strokes that make him pant. There’s only the sound of their breathing, nails digging at the curve of Sicheng’s ass as he unconsciously hiked his legs up Taeyong’s waist. The elder is still sucking of his chest, leaving bites in his wake with every stroke as Sicheng barely could hold on his shoulders to spur him.

“I wonder who else you've been fucking.”

“You sound so fucking jealous,” Sicheng smirked, heaving as he grabbed him by the nape to crush their mouths. The surge of confidence threw Taeyong off balance as Sicheng pushed him, toppling him to his back to reverse their positions. “Is that it? Scared Jaehyun is better than you?”

He takes advantage of his silence to grab the tie that’s hanging by the edge, grabbing Taeyong’s wrist to tie them over his head on the short column on the end of his bed frame. It’s easier to look at him when he’s not the one hovering over him, even if he liked it a lot. He’s all angles, skin glowing in the light from outside that Sicheng wonders if it would be pathetic of him to want to remember this moment by taking a photo. Sweat pools on his cupid’s boy but he’s not panicking at all, his hands clenched around the cloth with ever heaving breath.

Why he is so beautiful laid down like this is a mystery Sicheng doesn’t want to answer to. So he doesn’t dwell, leaning down to kiss him and he eagerly accepted it. When he detached, Taeyong leaned up to follow and he nipped at his jaw where he can reach.

It’s different from his frenzied start. Taeyong’s pupils are blown that it completely overtook his eyes as he waits for what Sicheng does next.

“You know, you’re all talk.”

“And you really think I’m just letting you do this.”

Defensive. Taeyong’s not meeting his eyes, choosing to stare lower and he angled his hips because Sicheng is straddling him to thrust up right to the cleft of his ass. He moaned in response, nails digging on his chest and leaning down to inhale the smell of sweat on Taeyong’s neck.

“I’ve never been fucked before,” Sicheng whispered as he leaned over to dig into the bedside drawer. Taeyong’s eyes shifted to the way his torso stretched with the movement, the heaving of his naked chest and the darkening hickeys he left. The minute he registered what the younger said, his breath hitched and the air of the room became stifling as Sicheng pulled out a bottle of lube and a condom “Isn’t that what you want?”

“You don’t know what I want at all.”

“Taeyongie-hyung, you wanted to find me,” he popped open the cap, pouring down the cold liquid onto his fingers coating them thoroughly. It’s a funny thing to see lube when the only time he ever touched it was when Jaehyun taught him how to finger himself just so he could know what it felt like. That’d been a while because there is really nothing nice about digits up his asshole. Still, he sat up on his haunches, leaning back as he let his finger trace his pucker as he stared down at the elder “You could have just forgotten. It takes so much effort to try and be angry at someone for years.”

The first finger was foreign, almost uncomfortable but he bit down on his lip to stifle the sound of discomfort to add another. He stilled them, getting used to the feeling and eyes fluttering shut to stop feeling dizzy. When it didn’t feel like it hurt, he started stretching himself and scissoring to loosen it up. It still felt weird as he slowly got used to it. He’s spurred on with the desperate look on Taeyong’s face as he tugged on the restraints, almost holding back. He pushed a third one that he hit a spot that made him lose balance as he collapsed on Taeyong’s chest.

“Don’t play with the big boys if you can’t handle it,” Taeyong whispered, softer now and Sicheng shook his head with his face still buried on the elder’s chest. To distract himself from coming too soon, he bit down Taeyong’s nipple as he pumped his fingers in and out “Easy, easy.”

When he thought it was fine, he pulled out to reach for more lube and ripping the condom with his teeth. Taeyong’s cock fit his hand, warm and throbbing as he slathered lube on it before he heard his laughter. Blushing when he slid in the condom and pouring more of the lube before he placed his hands on Taeyong’s chest for leverage, Sicheng bottoms out in one smooth glide.

“Ah!” he shrieked in surprise, not used to the size and almost tearing up when Taeyong involuntarily jerked his hips. It hits his prostrate and he bears down to let the head press against it once more, breathing heavily against the elder’s mouth. Taeyong’s laughing a little again and it is muffled when he pressed a long kiss on his lips, angling a little so he can lick at the seams. Asking permission to let his tongue down his throat now of all times is stupid but Sicheng indulged him. They part with spittle lining between Taeyong’s face harsh in the dark and beautiful still.

“Don’t take more than you can handle, baby boy,” Taeyong whispered, lifting his hips a bit and planting his feet on the mattress. Sicheng grinded down in time to his thrusts that he dug his nails on the sheets beside Taeyong’s neck in pleasure, his moans so loud over the sound of skin slapping on skin. He’s getting tired as his legs burn with every thrust as he merely rolled his hips and hid his face on Taeyong’s neck. “Tired, already?”

“Shut up.”

There are hands on his back that try to soothe him, his feverish mind making him whine at the contact before Taeyong lifted his chin to lick into his mouth. He’s starting to sob when Taeyong sits up and laid him on his back, peppering kisses on his neck and face. He doesn’t want him to be gentle, it makes his mind go to those places he doesn’t want to entertain and he comes back to reality when he moved his hips to slam into him.

He threw his head back, moaning and Sicheng raked his nails down Taeyong’s back. His thrusts are shallower, dragging against the walls that he can feel everything and he thrashes his head around.

“Calm down, calm down.” Taeyong whispered to his ear, licking the shell and blowing air to distract him as he picked up pace. The sudden change as he all but pistons into him and his hip hitting the swell of his ass as Taeyong hiked his legs to wrap around his waist is making the coiling heat in his lower stomach about to burst.

If anything, he wants release and when Taeyong jerked him off, slick and dirty against his hard cock, he keened and came all over his stomach. He clamped down onto the elder’s shoulder, biting so hard and tightening every nerve in his body that his ass squeezes Taeyong’s cock. He shuddered as several thrusts made him tear up from the overloaded sensations before Taeyong came into the condom, one last open-mouthed kiss against his raw, bitten lips.

They settle for a few moments, Sicheng licking on the inflamed bite mark he left while Taeyong ran his fingers through his hair. The intimacy is scary, their softness betraying the reason why they did this in the first place. He looked up to meet his eyes and the minute he does, the guard is back into Taeyong’s eyes. Maybe it’s because he isn’t wearing the eyeliner that concealed the fact that Taeyong is seeing Winwin, seeing the person who killed the child in him and ruined the life he could have. The doubt started to harden his jaw as he gritted his teeth.

He surveyed his state, mussed hair and his stomach painted in stripes of his cum. Sicheng stretched his torso and threw his arm over his eyes because his head is starting to hurt for some reason. Taeyong pulled out, tying and discarding the condom on the trash bin nearby. Sicheng heard him take something from his bedside, the rustling of the sheets as he felt his arm pried off his face to see the lens of his camera.

“Smile, Winwin.”

He does but not without his heart breaking to pieces. The snap of the camera is haunting and Taeyong sits back more to take another picture of him laying there. It’s easy to reacquaint himself with the feel of being photographed, tilting his head to showcase his neck and closing his eyes when Taeyong tilted his chin.

“I like you.”

It came out of his mouth way easily, the heaviness of his shoulders leaving and yet his chest tightened with it. Feeling this way for Taeyong is scary. He doesn’t know where to look until he fixated his eyes on the ceiling afraid of what the reaction would be. The silence is ringing in his ears like dead weight that made him sit up, taking wet wipes to clean up and picking up his clothes. His fingers are shaking as he slid his jacket on and he wipes his mouth nervously before he sucked a breath.

Sicheng turned just in time for the strap of his camera to be looped around his neck, gently putting the item to his chest to not break it. Taeyong’s not looking at him as he pushed him out of his room, hard enough that he reeled back as he closed the door.

The minute he walked out of the apartment complex, he dialed Jaehyun’s number, saying “Please wait for me. I don’t feel well” as he hailed a cab and gave him directions back to the club. He moved like a ghost, mind blank as he stared out the window searching for any semblance of feeling.

Sicheng just felt empty, even more when Jaehyun found him sitting on the curb and wrapped his arms around him, telling him that they were going home.

Jaehyun's voice is small when they were back in the apartment, curled on the couch as Sicheng continued staring blankly and no matter how comforting he tried to be, Sicheng still felt the heaviness of his words when he said "I told you to be careful."

…

The photos were hard to look at afterwards.

Sicheng doesn’t realize how much he has of Taeyong printed on paper until he had laid every single one of them on the coffee table to see. There is a detachment that comes to his mind as he tried not to feel the ugly pangs of his heart as he looked at each of them.  The project was very vague when the teacher assigned it to them, explaining about how while eyes are windows to the soul the photos were the gateways to the heart. He was a poetic man who loved to talk about romanticized ideas about how people love to take pictures of things that fascinate them, things they adore even without realizing. He wanted them to feel through the lenses and capture what they couldn’t speak out.

If it were true, with all these pieces of Taeyong basking in the light and glowing unearthly among the mortality of his surroundings, what does it say about him?

Sicheng buried his face onto his crossed arms, thumping against the cool glass and away from the scattered photos to not wrinkle them. He’s been mulling over whether he should continue this after everything, knowing how discontented Taeyong would be if he found out he would show it to so many students. It was a miracle that they weren’t deleted, a shock when he opened his storage to find they were all there. He expected them gone because the elder was clear that he didn’t like being taken photographs and those words echo in Sicheng’s mind.

He’s lost on what to do now. The rejection is still fresh in his mind, silent and deadly as if it would tip him over the edge if he so as much dwelled on it. The dark circles under his eyes are still swollen because he rubbed his tears too much as if that were to stop them in the recess of his room. Muffled by his sheets fisted into his wailing mouth, he slept with tears staining his cheeks that he wondered how stupid he must be to think things could have changed.

Taeyong only wanted to break him. He didn’t realize how much he had smashed to pieces along the way.

“Hey.” The feeling of fingers carding through his hair startled him, whipping his head up to see Doyoung with a bag of take out on his other hand. Sicheng gulped, ducking his head down to avoid his touch and started to arrange the photos in a pile to put them back into the box he had kept them for now. He can only hear the edge of the photos tapping on the glass, the sound of his own breathing as well as the rhythmic thud of Doyoung’s leg as he fidgeted.

When it was clear he was waiting for an answer, Sicheng cleared his throat “Yes?”

“Your photos are really nice,” Doyoung replied, smiling as he picked up one of the pictures that had been in Sicheng’s stack. It was Taeyong with his hand outstretched, legs parted mid stride that made him look like he was bestowing a blessing to the audience after the show with the microphone at his feet. He put it back, pulling another with this one of pink hair taken from the back with sweat sticking the small hairs to the nape of his neck with the collar of his jacket dipping to the side. He hummed, moving to sit next to Sicheng as he carefully pulled the photo that the younger hid under his elbow “But you should consider these candids too.”

He showed it to Sicheng, the blurriness of the edges suggested he took it too quick and there is something off with some of the colors because he didn’t focus right but Taeyong’s scrunched up face as he laughed with his mouth wide open is such a lovely scene. It’s one of the quick photos he took before Taeyong noticed he was there (and he usually did the first few minutes he came in like he could _sense_ him), a rather different sight from how he’d scowl at him most of the time. It showed how boyish Taeyong looked, the soft curve of his chin that cut against the sharpness of his jaw making him look so much younger.

He sucked in a breath, staring up at Doyoung “What are you doing here, hyung?”

“Feeding you. You tend to forget that and Jaehyun’s been blowing up my phone to let him kill someone for you. But you need nutrition more so I bought beef and broccoli.”

Sicheng chuckled, sinking into the cushions more as Doyoung continued to pick more photos out of the pile. He didn’t know how Doyoung would react after he realized that Sicheng lied to him the first time they met about knowing Taeyong but he seemed indifferent now. There could be a chance he is assessing the situation or waiting for Sicheng to say something first. “Thank you for the food.” He settled to saying, taking the takeout box with both hands and cradling it close to his chest.

“You should talk to Taeyong again. He’s mostly been coped up or overworking again and he only does it when he’s bothered,” Doyoung said after Sicheng swallowed a spoonful of the delicious rice, chewing thoughtfully to hide how he almost choked “Hell, that guy is bad with his emotions that I think he’d rather find ways to avoid it.”

Sicheng hummed around his spoon, the broccoli mush against the roof of his mouth that he inhaled it too fast and coughed.

“But oh, well. At least he didn’t delete these now, did he?”

He can’t look at Doyoung in the eye, he just can’t. The burn of his stare on his cheek is enough to make him eat more of his beef and broccoli to keep his mouth preoccupied. Sicheng doesn’t want to bring this up with Doyoung because god knows what Taeyong told him, their closeness is something he recently discovered when he found a picture of them with the band that Jaehyun was looking at the other day. He’s not that stupid to put things together and he really doesn’t want to know how Doyoung would react. He is a good person, he is good for Jaehyun’s wandering soul but Sicheng knew there are certain things he wouldn’t stand for.

“Stop overthinking, Sicheng.”

He doesn’t realize he’s loudly scraping the bottom of the empty takeout box, head whipping up to smile sheepishly before the elder took it from his shaking hands. Doyoung placed his hand on top of his, nodding slowly as if he’s trying to quell whatever was churning inside Sicheng’s head that got him tongue-tied. It was the only reaction he can see before the elder went to throw away the trash.

Sicheng returned his attention to the photos scattered on the coffee table and picked the one he didn’t notice had fallen off the edge, gingerly holding it by the edge as he swiped his palm over the bright smile on Taeyong’s face, soft and kind with his turning to upturned crescents that caused the wrinkles on the corner of his eyes stand out. A rare occurrence to find him off-guard enough to give a smile that he realized he wasn’t the one who took this and the weight in his stomach dropped.

He gathered the pictures back onto a stack, hugging them close to his chest before he went back to his room. He pulled out his portfolio and started to work.

Doyoung looked at him from the doorway, eyebrows furrowed with a cup in hand and he followed him inside. It’s a strange sentiment to bother him when he is working because he would usually yell at them to get out but he doesn’t really have any train of thought to do so right at the moment.

The feel of the plastic as he slid the pictures inside in the right order calmed him, the weird feeling of Taeyong’s face staring back at him made him reflect. Sicheng finished with the third page when the feeling of hot ceramic is pressed lightly on his cheek, startling him and he turned to have the rim of the cup press between his lips. He smelled the cocoa and the milk, sipping it when it is tipped enough to get the lukewarm liquid flow into his mouth.

When he had gulped it, he flatly said “What are you, my mom?”

Doyoung rolled his eyes and placed the mug on Sicheng’s table, waving his hands around “I’m just making sure you don’t die early.”

“Go to my deathbed then.”

“I’m going to hit your humor out of you.”

…

The day he needed to pass his project, he bumped into Taeyong.

It could have been such a funny coincidence if it wasn’t that he walked out of the school café clutching his portfolio when someone grabbed his shoulder to spin him around. His sneakers dragged with a loud squeak, mirroring the sound from his mouth as he came face to face with Taeyong’s blank face. It’s almost like a recurring thing now and Sicheng unconsciously quirked the edge of his mouth to laugh but stopped himself to school his expression to a neutral one.

This isn’t the dark club or the privacy of a closed room where he can taunt Taeyong. Sicheng prioritized his schoolwork more and trying to start up a fight in campus would be very bad for him if they caught wind that he took photos of an unwilling model. Their professor has been particular about consent and arranged contracts but he wouldn’t understand the situation even Sicheng explained to him. He’s already at the deadline and he would be damned to let this be the very reason he’d be held back. Truth be told, his teacher gave him tomorrow as extension but he just wanted to get rid of it now.

So their eyes meet, the sun shining down harshly against them that Sicheng doesn’t know if he’s sweating from the heat or from Taeyong’s taunting presence before him. It made his hands clammy to the point the portfolio slip out of his grip, thumping against the sole of Taeyong’s shoes because he hadn’t noticed how close he was. The pages open like some bad popup book without the pop up fun images just high quality of photos of Taeyong staring to the distance like a man who’s discovered the wonders of a sight no one else can understand. It’s the same photo he took the first time, the very first time he was there and the time before his heart spilled into his camera never to return back to his fingertips.

He can tell Taeyong is staring at his messy state, puffy face from oversleeping after four consecutive cups of coffee to finish the portfolio in time without any time to even brush down his unruly bed head and putting on a pink sweater under a denim jacket and old jeans made him look droopier than usually. It’s not much compared to the wet strands of his fading pink hair stuck to his forehead and the collar of his shirt damp that he looked like he went into some rainy weather and halfway dried himself.

Both of them messes just like this thing between them.

Taeyong bent down, picking up the portfolio with ease before returning his gaze to Sicheng. He clutched it close to his side and there is no sign that he has any intention of giving it.

“We need to negotiate the terms for this. Isn’t there a contract for this kind of modeling?” Taeyong smirked “You know a thing or two about lawsuits after all.”

Shit. The word is mouthed before Sicheng can stop himself and his hand flies to slap over it. Taeyong doesn’t even seem to think anything of it as he grabbed Sicheng’s wrist to the nearest secluded place where there aren’t any people. Sicheng can’t tell where they are going with the panic making his heart beat way too fast he’s starting to hyperventilate. His feet stumble over as he catches up to how fast Taeyong is walking, head looking around to see if people are looking at them thinking he was being kidnapped and gulped. They are at the old student lounge right behind the Psychology building where it was notorious for being deserted at this time of day because of the new one built closer to the canteen. Sicheng doesn’t know how Taeyong knew of this place and he doesn’t have time to ask either as he is forced to sit down on one of the chairs.

Taeyong stood in front of him, irritated for some reason and Sicheng jolted when he bent a little to touch his fingertips underneath his eyes.

“Didn’t find your eyeliner, Winwin?” he said as he straightened to take something out of the bag he carried, the familiar cap and pencil making Sicheng’s eyes widen. He had wondered where his eyeliner was and seeing it as Taeyong popped the cap off to find it sharpened rather than the stub it was before made him realize its whereabouts all this time. “You probably need a hand.”

 There’s finality in his words, no room for argument that Sicheng’s first instinct is to berate him for it but Taeyong pushed his shoulders down and crowded between his legs to come closer to his face. He grabbed his cheek, rough pads of his fingers making certain memories surface but he stilled at the touch of the sharp edge on his lower eyelid. It’s daunting to have it too close to his eye when he could get stabbed in the iris but Taeyong slowly dragged a line across under his waterline. He doesn’t even want to say anything about how ridiculous his idea that he can escape his hatred for a memory with a little kohl.

Taeyong redid the movement until his thumb rubbed the edges to soften the harsh line. Sicheng doesn’t know how thick he made it but he was starting to tear up from the way he kept his gaze up without blinking. “Do you miss being in front of the camera, Winwin?” he asked, thumb moving to run the edge across Sicheng’s eyelashes. It’s a tickling sensation that made him blink and he cursed but Taeyong sighed.

“What do you think?” he replied curtly, huffing when he felt weight down his lids that forced him to close his eyes. The eyeliner is dragged more across the top, almost like Taeyong wanted to him a winged look for no reason. He can yell, he can push him away and tell him about his bullshit but what he said next stopped him.

“You stopped being on camera because you wanted to get rid of the feeling of having people following your every move,” it’s whispered against his lips as Taeyong touched his forehead to his, composing himself perhaps as he continued “Did you do it because you thought my father deserved it or was it because maybe it my father’s mistake of hiring someone without checking if they didn’t have a background that wasn’t safe for the child models?”

Sicheng’s breath hitched and he didn’t know what to say.

He’s not used to this resignation, to this Taeyong who isn’t filled with hatred for the persona he had and he doesn’t know why it’s pulling at his heartstrings.

“I’m sorry.”

If he was tearing up before then the warmth in his eyes are signs that he’s so close to breaking down. His heart is thundering in his ears, the tightness of his chest making every breath hurt and when Taeyong cupped both hands to his jaw to make him face him did he realize tears were falling already. It’s streaking his cheeks with black tracks that he knew made him look insane or those chicks in movies who cried wearing makeup but Taeyong is smiling. He’s smiling softly at him and he’s close to crying too that he doesn’t even understand what they’re crying over.

“They did say hatred is passion and spending so much time thinking about you, trying to ruin you just made it so easy to fall in love with you even when I wasn’t even ready to understand what was happening. You,” he kissed his forehead, the furrow of his brow and then to the corner of his lips “Why did you have to make it so easy to love you?”

“You rejected me.” Sicheng blurted out, overwhelmed that he didn’t even know what to do with his hands as he clenched them in front of his chest.

Taeyong kissed him softly, the words he mouth against his lips enough to make him realize how wrong he was as he threw his arms to laugh as he wiped his eyeliner stained tears onto Taeyong’s collar.

…

The lights are harsh on his eyes, the smell of sweat and alcohol mingling with the adrenalin as the crowd screamed with every riff and beat as the song progressed. It made his heart rate pick up from the excitement, almost dropping his camera when he pumped his fists in the air at the way that Taeyong is rapping the verse like he’s trying to rip the atmosphere. It worked like wildfire, the crowd going insane as they demanded an encore while the elder regained his breath.

Drenched in sweat, a drop trailing down his jaw as it disappeared into the open collar of his white sleeveless button-down. His jeans are a killer and Sicheng does stare a lot on the holes on his thighs without meaning to. Yuta catches his gaze once in awhile and wiggled his eyebrows at him as if he knew what he was thinking. He responded by sticking his tongue at him and raising his camera to snap a candid of the Japanese man he can ask Hansol to toy with. There’re a few girls who push against him he almost stumbled as they tried to reach the stage but Sicheng sidestepped enough that one of them fell onto their friend’s back. They glared at him, pointing fingers at him as they seethed but Sicheng is dragged by the arm as Jaehyun took him over to the bar where Doyoung was bartending for the night.

“Stop giving those girls a hard time. It isn’t their fault they want to see hot guys,” Jaehyun teased, leaning on the counter to stare at Doyoung as he flipped the bottle and poured it down to make the cocktail change color “It’s not like Taeyong would want to stare anywhere else with you here.”

Sicheng gave him a sly smile, kicking his legs that made him lose his balance and made a rather painful sound as his chin hit the table. Jaehyun glared at him as he rubbed the sore spot, Sicheng giving an apologetic smile before he is grabbed and put into a headlock. They pushed and pulled for several seconds, laughing all the way that the people around stared at them. Doyoung stopped mixing a margarita to see what the noise was and chuckled as he let someone else fill in, stepping out and breaking them up to make sure the patrons weren’t annoyed.

“The music is loud already so no need to add to the noise, boys.” Doyoung quipped, rubbing on Jaehyun’s chin when he noticed the red mark on it and Sicheng gagged at them without any bite. He sat down and wounded his legs around the chair leg as he saw Yuta bounding over them sweaty from the playlist. The Japanese man smiled widely before he hugged Sicheng really tight that he can smell the sweat and the tinge of cologne he recognized as Hansol’s before he wiggled around to get out. Sicheng is shielding his camera away, hissing when it dug into his stomach as Yuta squeezed the life off of him.

Yuta removed his sticky limbs and stuck out his tongue at the edge of his mouth “Hm. Something is different with you,” he stared at Sicheng for a while before pointing to the little choker with a pendant around his neck “Whose kinky idea is that now?”

Immediately, his hand shoots up to feel the leather and he would be embarrassed but he really liked the item because Ten pointed it while he was out with him and Johnny last week. It was a surprise however when Taeyong gave it to him this morning when he picked it up, whispering how he’d love to see him wear it. Sicheng turned to look for Ten in the crowd but found Johnny instead who winked at him conspiringly and he shook his head in amusement.

“It’s what’s fashionable. Not everything has to do with the bedroom like you think, hyung.” Sicheng hissed, bumping his hip to make Yuta move a little farther away. The elder chuckled before blowing him a kiss, wagging his eyebrows still. He wasn’t going to back down with whatever he was imagining Taeyong and him were up to in private just because Sicheng said so. That was how he liked teasing both of them when they found them wearing matching scarves and pulled at them to reveal their necks littered with marks. It’s embarrassing and invasive at times that Sicheng wouldn’t speak to him for days until Taeyong cooled his anger down.

Sicheng spun around, determined to let Yuta be only to bump into someone’s chest and hitting their forehead. He took a step back to apologize and maybe hiss at Yuta who’s laughing in background when his hands are held. It takes him a few blinks before he lurches to press his lips excitedly on Taeyong’s, smiling widely as the elder smiled back. His makeup from before is smudged now and there’s a sheen of sweat on his cupid’s bow that Sicheng wiped with his thumb.

“Great show out there,” he said, taking a step away and raising his camera to capture the proud beam of Taeyong’s face, the crinkle of his eyes next before Sicheng is turning it off to wrap his arm around him. Pulling him close, he whispered “Yuta-hyung’s bullying me again, can you believe?”

“What? About your choker? Seriously, he cosplays with Hansol sometimes and I have seen that sailor uniform in his room.” Taeyong clicked his tongue as he looked over the crowd to glare at the top of Yuta’s head. He doesn’t do so for long and turned his gaze back at Sicheng.

There is tenderness in them that made him blush and look away. It still made his stomach feel butterflies when Taeyong smiled at him and fingers trailing his chin to make him look back. A kiss is pressed at the corner of his mouth then to his nose and he started giggling when Taeyong nuzzled the tip of his nose against his.

“We should go celebrate with the others,” Taeyong murmured when he pulled away before kissing him one last time, slotting their lips properly to kiss Sicheng deeply “Yeah.” he whispered in between, chuckling to himself.

Sicheng chuckled when he pulled away this time, noting how the elder leaned to follow but shook his head “Celebrate with our friends, remember. Taeyong-hyung, are you drunk or just forgetful?”

“Says the one who got lost at the mall because he didn’t know where the toilet was.”

Taeyong paused, looking a little sheepish when he saw how Sicheng pouted in annoyance before taking his hand. He ran his thumb across his knuckles before raising it to his lips, whispering “Sicheng-ah.” His eyes are sparkling prettily under the strobes.

It made Sicheng feel like his heart was about to burst. Taeyong laughed at the dazed expression on his face and dragged him back to their friends.


End file.
